


The Sun's Return

by silverneko9lives0



Series: Sun and Moon [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bilbo Remains In Erebor, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe-Bilbo Returns to Erebor, Awkwardness, Eventual Romance, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post Hobbit, Post-Canon, Rebuilding Erebor, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-20
Updated: 2015-01-20
Packaged: 2018-02-09 17:19:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 29
Words: 50,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1991277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverneko9lives0/pseuds/silverneko9lives0
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Don't Go." Bilbo is behind in getting back to Erebor two years after making the promise to return. He sent a letter, but apparently it didn’t make it to Erebor…and what are these rumors about an early spring wedding? Slow burn Bagginshield, established Nofur, Dwori, other relationship to be added</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_“If you must go, then please come back. You will be missed in your absence, Bilbo Baggins.”_

_He held his breath, waiting for whatever Bilbo would say next._

_“Two years,” Bilbo said. “Give me two years to set everything in order in the Shire. Then I’ll come back before the third begins.”_

_Thorin pulled away and stood. “Then I will see you in two years, Bilbo. In which time you’ll be sorely missed.”_

Bilbo leaned against the window sill and watched the raven fly away, shrinking to a black speck in the grey sky as fat white flakes of snow fell. He hated to say it, but he wasn’t going to make it back to Erebor this year.  

He _meant_ to get back earlier, but then things had gone wrong when the Sackville-Bagginses contested his right to give Bag End to Drogo though the lad was just barely of age! (He was certainly old enough even if no one else liked it.)

The nerve of them!

Thankfully his Took relations stepped in and “convinced” those no-good, pea-brained, spoon-thieving tomnoddies that the only one who had any right to say who did and did not have Bag End was Bilbo.

All was well now, but the winter had set him back further. He hoped his companions would forgive his tardiness. Surely they’d understand. Winter was a terrible time for traveling—best to do so when the weather was more favorable.

 _Well, best do something rather than watch the snow_ , he thought, moving away from the ledge and toward the kitchen to make dinner.

He wondered when it was exactly that he made that promise to Thorin two years ago. It was around the Dwarven winter solstice, wasn’t it? He wasn’t entirely sure. Bilbo shrugged it off. Hopefully the Raven would get the letter to the company and all would be well.

Bilbo hummed one of his walking songs to himself while set a small roast in the oven and began to chop up some vegetables. A part of him was eager to return to Erebor and finally call it home. To find that among Dwarves was where he belonged…well perhaps that was just part of fate.

If fate were to exist—before his adventure, he doubted it. But since then he had not been so sure. Bilbo set the vegetables aside and gathered one of the bread rolls he had baked earlier that day. Though it had cooled, the crust was still soft.  Bilbo went to the wine rack to seek out a new bottle when the door bell rang. He paused, furrowing his brow. The bell rang again with more insistence.

“All right! All right! I’m coming!” he shouted, stomping toward the door. He curled his hand around the knob and yanked it open to be confronted with the cold and enveloped between two Dwarves.

“Bofur, Kili, give him room to breathe, eh?” Nori snapped, stomping in and shaking snow from his hair.

“You could’ve worn a hood,” Dwalin said, following him in and brushing snow off his cloak. Kili let go long enough to close the door and Bilbo cried out when Bofur stuffed his cold fingers down his shirt.

“Aaah! What are you all doing here?” Bilbo said. “Bofur, really, get off! You’re freezing!”

“But you’re so warm.”

“I know,” Bilbo snapped. “Now let go and I’ll just grab some more food, all right? The fire in the parlor’s lit. Go on and warm up in there.”

Kili sprung for the room. Dwalin followed the young prince with a deep sigh.

“Come on, _men âzyungel_ ,” Nori said, pulling Bofur off Bilbo. “A hearth’s fire won’t hurt you.”

“I know, but Nori…”

Bilbo poked his head in. “Are there more coming?”

“Nope,” Kili said, pulling his boots off and massaging his reddened toes, “Just us. Barely made it to Bree before the weather turned sour."

“Yes. I just sent word I wasn’t going to be able to make it back until spring.”

“Good,” Dwalin said. “At least Thorin won’t worry too much.”

“He sent us to escort you,” Nori said. “Originally it was going to be me and Bofur.”

“But then Kili did his puppy eyes,” Bofur said. “And Thorin’s never fully been able to resist _that_ look. Spoiled brat.”

“Hey!” Kili protested.

“So Dwalin came to keep trouble away from Kili,” Bofur continued.

“And to keep Kili _out_ of trouble,” Dwalin finished. “It’s a bigger party than intended.”

Bilbo nodded. “Well, give me a few minutes and I’ll have something for everyone to eat. After that, I’ll set up rooms for everyone. I have four rooms—”

“Three,” they corrected.

“Nori and I got engaged last summer,” Bofur said.

Bilbo looked from Bofur to Nori. He grinned. “Congratulations. I didn’t get the announcement.”

“Course not, you weren’t there to get it,” Nori said.

“You could’ve mailed one,” Bilbo snapped at him. Dwalin cleared his throat.

“We usually don’t mail engagement announcements,” he said. “Normally, they’re verbally spread and only among family first. The Company only knows because Dori was too happy to keep his mouth shut for the given month that he assessed Bofur.”

“Didn’t really do much ‘assessing’ either,” Bofur said. “Unlike someone, Dori actually likes me.” Dwalin scowled at Bofur, who took out his pipe and lit it. “Don’t glower at me, it’s not my fault you went about everything backwards.”

Bilbo clapped his hands. “Well, I best get back to the kitchen. Is roast beef all right?” He was given a hearty dose of assurances and retreated to the kitchen to make more roast.

He chuckled to himself. He should be more offended that the quartet now sitting in front of the fire had come unannounced and uninvited. And yet, he didn’t care. Rude though it was of them to simply drop by without a word, he couldn’t say he wasn’t happy to see them again.

A few minutes later, he called them to the dining room. “Just don’t _throw_ anything this time,” he said. “And at least _try_ to eat some greens.” The glares that went his way just made him smile. He handled worse than murderous glares from relatively friendly Dwarves.

As for dinner itself, it went as well as it could be when one asked Dwarves not to throw things. Clearly the same was not said about the bread, but at least nothing that would take an age to clean off was thrown.

It was, perhaps, the best dinner party Bilbo had had in a long time. It was small, noisy, rowdy, and unexpected, but what more could he assume from Dwarves? Compared to the control exhibited by his relatives and neighbors—minus the Tooks—Bilbo found the brashness his companions now displayed far more welcoming. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed so hard!

After dinner, Bilbo led them to their rooms and urged them to make themselves comfortable if they like, sending a scathing glare in Kili’s direction when he made a lewd comment toward Nori and Bofur. Prince or not, Bilbo threatened to put him on dish duty.

To which Kili scoffed.

Apparently, threatening him with chores was not going to deter him in the slightest. Bilbo had half a mind to carry out the threat, but decided that’d be a bit rude as they had just arrived and were still quite weary from the journey.

#

The morning was dark grey with snow coming down in small flakes which Bilbo watched as he had his morning tea with breakfast. The others were still asleep, but he intended to make a decent second breakfast for them by that time.

His eyes shifted from the window to the doorway leading from the kitchen to the hall.

“You’re up early,” Dwalin said.

“I expected you to still be asleep,” Bilbo said. “As for myself, I’m just about done with breakfast. I make something quick for you if you like—”

“No, thank you. Though I’ll not turn down a pot of coffee if you have some.”

Bilbo nodded. “I don’t usually drink it myself,” he said, fetching the beans. “But my cousin Drogo drinks a lot and he’s been coming down more often while we figure out what goes to him and what I’ll bring with me.”

“Why?”

“I signed the house off to him. He recently came of age and the reason I didn’t leave as soon as I had hoped was due to the interference of some other relatives who want the house. I’m sure they’ll still be trying for ages after I leave, but,” he shrugged. “It’s taken care of.”

“You shouldn’t have to give up your house, Lad,” Dwalin said. Bilbo ground the beans and deposited them in a coffee press. “It’s not right.”

“Well, I’ve no intention of coming back here,” he said. “I’d rather give it to whoever needs it more than I do and that is Drogo.” The kettle whistled and he poured the water into the coffee press. “He can have a start here, take over the family—better him than the Sackville-Bagginses, believe me—and begin a family of his own when the time comes. He’s quite more respectable than I am, so the Bagginses can’t really complain. Besides, I don’t mind. There’s nothing here for me anymore. Everything I want is in Erebor. That’s where my real family is.”

He smiled at Dwalin and poured the coffee into a cup. “Thank you,” Dwalin said.

“You’re welcome. Are you sure you don’t want something to eat? Or something to go with the coffee? I’ve cream and sugar if you like.”

“No, I can wait for the others to wake,” he said. Bilbo nodded. “Have you a writing desk I could use. The sooner I let Thorin know we arrived alive and well, the sooner we can set the rest of his worries at peace. Blasted King nearly came with us.”

“Well, so long as he didn’t call me a grocer again, he’d be most welcome.”

Dwalin chuckled. “He was more concerned for Kili, actually. I can’t blame him: the two years haven’t done much for Kili’s maturity even if Fili’s on edge more often. Stress from being the crown prince and all. Slightest thing makes him explode in your face.”

Bilbo frowned. “Was Fili always so volatile?”

“Not since he was in his fifties, but he takes after his uncle more than he’d like.”

“Huh. Study’s just next door down on the left.”

Dwalin nodded and finished the coffee. He poured himself another cup and went to the study. Bilbo finished cleaning up and winced at the rapid, angry knocks at the door.

 _Oh, Lady, please let it not be Lobelia_ , he prayed, heading to the door. Luck, it seemed, was not on his side. Standing on his step, hands on her hips and tapping her foot, was Lobelia.

Bilbo groaned. “For the love of all that is good, Woman, what do you want at this time in the morning?!”

“Perhaps instead of griping, Bilbo, you could invite me in for tea.”

“How about not,” Bilbo said, smirking. “It’s far too early for dealing with the likes of you.”

“Mrs. Goodchild saw Dwarves coming this way. I was just coming to check and make sure it was simply her imagination.”

“I’d hate to disappoint, but I am most certainly hosting Dwarves. Who knows? They may stay for the winter festival. Wouldn’t that be just shocking? Now please, come at a more decent time? How about later today for tea? Then you can meet them when they’re all awake and capable of dealing with your barbed gossip. Fair enough?”

Lobelia sneered at him. “Otho and I will see you at tea, then.”

“Wonderful. Don’t forget that there is something that you are slowly losing which I’ve already lost called _propriety_. Have a good morning.” He closed the door in her outraged mug and grinned.

 _That felt good_.


	2. Chapter 2

“I doubt she’s as bad as Dori,” Nori said, stretching. Bofur yawned.

“If I had to choose, Nori, I’d choose Dori over Lobelia any day," Bilbo said. "At least Dori isn’t likely to offer comments that are actually insults to your entire maternal family.”

“No, he’d only to do that to someone he really doesn’t like,” Dwalin said. “Thankfully the worst I’ve done was court Ori.”

“Secretly,” Nori added.

“Oi, if I knew it was going to cause me _this much_ trouble, I’d have told Dori sooner. And it was Ori’s idea in the first place.”

“I know.”

“Is Kili still abed?” Bilbo asked, glancing down the hall.

“Aye,” Bofur said. “I went to wake him for breakfast and he was snuffling—”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Bilbo snapped, rushing to Kili’s room. He knocked on the door and waited for an answer, which came groggily. He entered the room.  “Kili? Are you feeling all right?”

“My nose is stuffy and my throat scratches.”

“I’ll bring you some tea with honey and a bowl of chicken broth, all right?”

“Mm-hmm,” Kili said, pulling the covers over his head.

Bilbo retreated and sighed. _Poor lad_ , he thought. “Sorry about that,” he said, returning to the kitchen to heat up some tea and chicken broth. “I’m afraid I’ve no herbs or poultices for Kili available, but after breakfast I’ll head over to the apothecary for what he needs.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“It sounds like it’s just a head cold, but he still needs to rest.”

“This is why I told him to wear his bloody hood,” Dwalin muttered. “Brat never listens. Have you a raven I can send this with?”

“I sent my own letter with the last raven, but we can get it to a ranger, I suppose.”

“Good enough for me,” Dwalin said. Bilbo arched a brow at him. “What? I know a few rangers around these parts. Good men. Some of the best warriors I know.”

“Old drinking buddies?”

“Some.”

Bilbo hummed. “Maybe I should stock up on beer too. I feel we’ll need it after dealing with Otho and Lobelia.” Met by a trio of grins, Bilbo decided that would be wise. Any reason to drink is a good reason, he supposed. And Lobelia was as good a reason as any.

Bofur helped clean the dishes after breakfast and Nori offered to stay behind and guard Kili in Dwalin’s place while Dwalin and Bofur accompanied Bilbo to the market. On the way, Bilbo gave them warning after warning:

Hobbits were shy around strangers so don’t be offended if their a bit cold.

Hobbit children, or fauntlings, are mischievous little brats. Keep your eyes open for an attack. They’ll sooner steal your food than your money, but be aware. If they do happen to attack just hand them back to their mothers or nearest guardian.

If a Hobbit warms up to you and offers you a meal, it would be insulting to turn them down. Always accept an invitation to eat someone else’s food.

The highest power in the Shire was the Thain. If you get his attention, you’re likely to be more accepted by Hobbits. For example: see Gandalf.

“What’s the likelihood of Nori remembering all of these?” Dwalin asked Bofur.

“Better than the two of us combined,” Bofur said. “But he’s less likely to just dump the kids on their mums and just turn them into his own army.”

Bilbo laughed. “Hasn’t really reformed, I take it?”

“Thorin made him his spy master, so it’s better, but not by much. Honestly, it was easier for me to win Dori over than it ever was for Nori and Bifur.”

“But I guess it worked out in the end?”

“Nori promised Bifur a flower garden. And Bifur being, well, Bifur, he accepted.”

“Cheat,” Dwalin muttered.

“Oi, maybe if you bribed Dori, he’d let it go.”

Dwalin arched a brow and scowled at Bofur. “Dori? Take a bribe?”

“Well, what about you? Wouldn’t you at least try?”

“Who do you take me for?!” Dwalin snapped. “I’m not going to bribe my future brother-in-law just so Ori and I can wed! Not that I’m surprised Nori went that far…” Bofur shrugged and Bilbo sighed. He loved his friends, truly, but sometimes they were rather out of the ordinary.

Dwalin broke away from them to find a ranger and promised to meet them at the market’s entrance when he was done, leaving Bofur to help Bilbo cart whatever they needed back to Bag End. As Bilbo had predicted, his walking in the market with Bofur beside him caused several Hobbits to halt and stare until a gaggle of children had decided to attack Bofur in the middle of the market while Bilbo tried to get a reasonable price out of the apothecary’s owner.

(It wasn’t that _all_ Hobbits had come to dislike him. Just those of his generation and older weren’t pleased with his disappearing act three years ago nor who he became after. Those younger than Bilbo, on the other hand, were either interested in his tales or, if old enough, getting into his pants. He wasn’t sure why going on a quest to fight a dragon made him desirable. He guessed it just did.)

“Are you one of Mr. Bilbo’s dwarves from his adventure?”

“Is Mr. Bilbo going on another adventure?”

“Can I come too?”

Bofur answered as many questions as he could, following Bilbo around with two fauntlings attached to his feet and another on his back and a fourth on his arm. Bilbo could only sigh and wonder where their mothers were. They couldn’t exactly take them back to Bag End with them, but as Bofur started telling them stories, men and women crowded around. Parents, most likely, who then turned to Bilbo and asked _him_ questions.

“How long is Mr. Bofur staying?”

“Are there other Dwarves visiting?”

“Are they all this good with children?”

Many of which were followed by invitations to a meal—usually tea or elevensies or lunch or dinner. For the next few days as Bofur charmed them. Bilbo was worried about bringing Nori along, but several had also insisted, on learning Bofur was engaged, to meet his fiancé. At least someone was winning them over. When there was mentions of Kili, Bilbo had to call it quits, telling them that if they wanted to meet Kili, they’d have to wait until he recovered from his cold. Eventually, the children were pried off Bofur and they bid goodbye.

“Why am I _not_ surprised you won them over so quickly?” Bilbo asked, smirking at Bofur.

“What can I say?” Bofur laughed. “I love children.”

Bilbo hummed. “I can see you as a father. Does Nori…”

“Not as much as I do, but yeah. Don’t we still need to get the beer?”

Bilbo smacked his forehead. “We do! Thank you for reminding me. I’d hate to forget that and risk an angry quartet of Dwarves…well, a _trio_ , actually, with Kili sick and all.”

“Well, you’d only really need to fear me,” Bofur said, massaging his neck. “The others are not as heavy a drinker as I am.”

“I am well aware,” Bilbo said as they neared the market’s entrance.

Dwalin leaned against a pole, arms crossed. He straightened when they came. “About time!” he shouted. “I was beginning to think I’d have to go looking for you.”

“Still need to get the beer,” Bofur said.

“Which means stopping at the pub,” Bilbo said, “Only place to get enough of it.”

“Bofur’s going home or we’ll _never_ get out of there,” Dwalin said.

“Hey!”

#

Otho kept shifting his gaze warily at Dwalin’s axes, hands shaking a tad when he drank his tea. Lobelia eyed all four of them with disdain, eyebrow twitching when Bofur and Nori acted affectionate toward each other. Bilbo wanted to laugh. Neither of the SBs was eager to set Nori, Bofur, or Dwalin off.

“So, I take it Bilbo’s…services are needed again?” Lobelia ventured guardedly.

Dwalin narrowed his eyes at her, scowling.

“I’ve actually decided to move to Erebor,” Bilbo said. “My friends have agreed to help with it. We’ll be leaving as soon as the snow clears.”

“Without saying goodbye?”

“Who would I say goodbye to? Everyone who knows me _well_ is already aware that my return is temporary.”

“You ought to try to be a little more proper,” Otho said. “Wouldn’t hurt to announce your leave.”

“And there’s still time to redraw that will,” Lobelia said.

Bilbo ground his teeth. “Now see here—”

“Master Baggins made his wishes that the house would go to his younger cousin quite clear,” Dwalin growled. “What claim do you have on it?”

“None,” Bilbo supplied when Otho and Lobelia didn’t answer, shrinking in their seats.

“I don’t know how it is among Hobbits, but it’s considered bad form among our people to try and rob someone of their home,” Nori said, playing with his knives. Lobelia blanched at the weapons now dancing across Nori’s fingers. “Especially when there is no claim to that home,” he added.

Bilbo grinned behind his cup. Of course the Dwarves would understand. “Would you really bully a young lad out of his new home gifted to him from someone who thought he was better suited to care for it?” Bofur asked.

“You have no right—” Lobelia sneered.

“Actually, we do.”

They turned to Kili, who entered. “My apologies, Sir.” He nodded toward Lobelia. “Madam. I’m a tad sick right now, but hear me out. When Bilbo came with us three years ago, it was to rid our rightful home of a dragon. You’re avarice toward his house is far too similar to that dragon’s or our liking.”

“And you are…”

“Kili son of Dis, prince of Erebor.”

Bilbo cleared his throat. “The king’s nephew,” he clarified.

“This is Bilbo’s home to do with as he wishes. Your continued attempts at taking it are a grievous insult, more so as Bilbo is kind enough to allow you in his house and offer you his food and drink. Were you dwarves, it would open up a legal dispute, albeit a short one. The house belongs to whoever lived there the longest. I admit, it’s a nice house, but it is not yours. Bilbo has expressed his wishes that it never will be. I suggest you accept that and get over your pettiness. It is embarrassing and ignoble. If this harassment continues, I will speak with the Thain personally.”

Through Kili’s speech, the SBs turned a marvelous shade of red and later white. Bilbo’s shoulders shook from holding back laughter. In addition, he was quite impressed. He didn’t know Kili could be so…regal. Though it was unlikely that Kili would ever be king, he knew what he was doing.

Of course, he swayed and sniffled through it, but he could certainly write Thorin about it. Or maybe not. He didn’t want to puff Thorin up with too much pride.

Then Kili collapsed.

“Back to bed with you,” Bilbo said as he and Dwalin excused themselves to take Kili back to his room. “And thank you,” he added. “They certainly needed to hear that.”

“Hopefully it got through to them.”

“You should meet with the Thain just in case,” Bilbo said. “Otho and Lobelia can be quite thick headed.”

“When I’m not so congested.”

“Of course, Lad. Your uncle would be proud,” Bilbo said. Kili grinned and they dumped him back on the bed and he curled up under the sheets. Bilbo promised to return soon with some more tea for him. And a clean handkerchief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GO KILI!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late! Had a little bit of writer's block yesterday.

Bilbo found himself spending quite a bit outside in the snow as he lead Dwalin, Nori, and Bofur to different houses for tea (how Dwalin snagged a few invitations, Bilbo wasn’t entirely sure and Dwalin wouldn’t tell him a thing). The time spent at home mainly led him to the kitchen where he’d fix Kili some more broth and tea on top of cooking for three healthy Dwarves and himself.

Two days after falling ill, Kili ventured into the kitchen asking for something a little more solid. His nose was still congested but far more bearable than it had been the day he successfully warded the SBs away from Bag End (hopefully) permanently.

“Still want me to meet with the Thain?” he asked, raising a mug of tea to his lips.

“Hmm…that might not be necessary, though it may be best to meet him anyway. I’m due to have dinner with his family soon anyway and they’ll be at the Winter Festival as well, but sooner you meet them the better, I suppose.” Bilbo groaned and slapped his forehead. “I completely forgot I need to let Mrs. Brandybuck know four Dwarves will be attending! You think a letter will get to her in time?”

“I think you’ll be fine,” Kili said. He stretched and patted his belly. “Oof…waterlogged…excuse me.” He left the kitchen, racing for the toilet.

Bilbo sighed and went to write that letter to the Brandybucks. The festival wasn’t for another week, so the young prince would be well enough, but Bilbo would be damned if his companions attended Brandywine Hall without any idea how to compose themselves properly among Hobbits. Bilbo would say he liked his people well enough, but they could be awfully touchy about etiquette and propriety. Something he felt was different for Dwarves.

He winced, trying not to laugh at the image of Dwalin dancing a quadrille or Nori the tango. He coughed a laugh and forced it down.

 _Somber thoughts_ , he told himself as he straightened his shirt and smoothed his face into a frown.   _Right then_ , Bilbo thought turning to the stove top. _Chicken and noodle soup for lunch._

#

“The current Thain is my first cousin on my mother’s side, Fortinbras Took the Second. His wife is Lily and they have a son, Ferumbras, who’ll take over after Fortinbras passes. Ferumbras is twenty-seven years old and quite the renowned pick pocket, so watch your pockets.”

“A pick-pocketing prince?” Dwalin asked. Bilbo turned around, eyes wide.

“What? No! No, no, no, the Thainship isn’t equivalent to royalty.”

“Sounds like it to me,” Kili said. The others nodded.

“Well, I suppose it does a little bit, but it’s really not the same,” Bilbo said. “A king holds _all_ power over his people both political and military. The Thain is strictly a military leader. There is also the Master of Buckland, who deals with the business side of things. Yes, both titles are inherited from father to son, but they’re just titles. We’ve never had much need for a military as it is. After that, there’s the mayor of Michel Delving, the capitol, who is our political leader and he is chosen by the people via election.”

“So…there’s three kings?” Bofur asked. “Or two kings and a steward?”

“No! They’re not _kings_. They’re just titles. That’s all they are. It’d be bad form to introduce yourselves to the Thain or the Master and call them ‘your majesty.’ ‘Sir Thain’ would be more acceptable.”

“So…they’re kings that are not kings…” Nori said.

Bilbo sighed. “Close enough.”

“Why don’t you have kings? Every other race has a king? Well, Orcs have chieftains, actually, but it’s pretty much the same thing.”

“Have you noticed how much you all fight and declare war on each other compared to how nice and peaceful it is here?” Bilbo asked with a smirk. “Think on that.”

“So the Thain’s son is a thief?” Nori asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice. Bilbo sighed.

“He’s a tween. Are you telling me that Kili wasn’t a bit mischievous when his he started to become an adult? Or yourself? I stole nearly everything from cooling pies on windowsills, mushrooms growing in gardens, several vegetables, and fresh bread at the market. Never got caught except the one time I stole some fireworks from Gandalf and nearly blew Hobbiton up.”

“No wonder Gandalf suggested you should be our burglar,” Dwalin said. “We’re more likely to streak at that age and pull a few pranks. Most Dwarves are—”

“Ridiculously stuffy,” Kili said. “The older they get, that is. As for the streaking, that doesn’t happen as often as you think—well, I did take Fili’s clothes once while he was bathing and he had to get home fast enough and not get caught. Which he was…”

Bilbo pinched the bridge of his nose. “So I gather Dwarves are nudists on occasion?”

Bofur, Nori, and Kili laughed while Dwalin massaged his forehead.

“Not…well…not really.”

Bilbo hummed. “Let’s not mention it in public. How about that?” He nodded at the affirmative responses and stopped at one of the round doors, painted deep blue, and knocked.

The door swung open and a Hobbitess with auburn curls pulled out of her face in a half bun tied in the back of her hair. Her green skirts reached just above her ankles to show the thick curls of foot hair. She beamed at them.

“Bilbo Baggins, you don’t come by nearly enough!”

“Good evening, Lily,” he said, embracing her. “If Hobbiton was closer to Tuckborough, I would probably be able to come by more often.”

“You know, I was under the impression you’d be off to Erebor by now.”

Bilbo chuckled. “Well, I’m currently snowed in, as are my traveling companions. Lily, may I introduce Bofur, Nori, Dwalin—”

They bowed, chorusing an, “at your service,” to her. Lily curtsied in response.

“And Kili son of Víli, prince of Erebor.”

Kili bowed. “I am at your service, Madam Took,” he said. He straightened. “Thank you for opening your doors to us.” Lily giggled and Bilbo narrowed his eyes at him.

“Are you even the same brat that scraped mud all over my mother’s glory box?”

“That was three years ago! A lot can happen in that time.”

“Well, you won’t be getting your boots anywhere _near_ my own. Prince or not, I’ll make you scrub it till it’s clean enough to eat off of.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” Kili said, glaring at Bofur and Nori’s giggling. Lily led them to the parlor and the introductions were repeated to Fortinbras as she returned to the kitchen.

“Has to be the first time I didn’t have to explain that I’m not really a king,” Fortinbras mumbled to Bilbo.

“I may have tried to explain it to them,” Bilbo admitted as he raised a glass of wine to his lips. A scream brought them back to the guests. Fortinbras sighed and Bilbo patted his shoulder.

“Ferumbras, what did you do?!” Fortinbras snapped.

“Now, now, no harm’s done,” Bofur said.

“Are you bloody joking?” Nori snapped. “The twerp tried to nick one of my beads! You’ve any idea how much time it takes to get my hair _this_ perfect?!”

“But he didn’t,” Bofur said rubbing his back. “That’s what matters. And yes, âzyungel, I do. No one made you braid your eyebrows.”

“His technique needs work anyway,” Nori muttered.

Ferumbras continued to twist around in Dwalin’s grasp even after he’d been caught. Dwalin set him down and Fortinbras gripped the back of Ferumbras’ neck.

“Sorry, Mister Dwarves,” Ferumbras mumbled somewhat unrepentantly.

“Could be worse,” Dwalin said. “This one shot me in the ass once,” he said pointing at Kili, who coughed.

“It was an accident!” He tried to shriek. “I was not intending to shoot you _anywhere_.”

“Ha! A likely story,” Dwalin retorted.

Ferumbras’ shoulders shook with silent laughter, a hand clamped over his mouth to muffle the noise. Fortinbras glanced at Bilbo as if to ask if this was normal. Bilbo arched a brow at his companions. Nori was still grumbling about his nearly destroyed hair. Bofur continued consoling him. Kili glared at Dwalin. Dwalin kept counting how many “accidents” Kili had while learning the bow.

“So you’re the Dwarves Bilbo went on an adventure with?” Ferumbras asked once he regained some composure. “Did he really slay a dragon?”

“I did not slay a dragon!” Bilbo exclaimed. “I _spoke_ to a dragon. There is a difference.”

“Yeah, he didn’t do any dragon slaying,” Nori said. “But he did kill spiders.”

“And a few orcs and wargs,” Kili added.

“Lead a jail break from the Elvenking’s dungeons,” Bofur added. “My hat was never the same after that.”

“Don’t forget how he nearly got us eaten by trolls,” Dwalin said. “Skin ‘em first. I’m never going to forgive him for that.”

“I saved us then too!” Bilbo snapped. “You lot were just lying around like fish out of water waiting to be eaten! At least I was smart enough to _stall_ them until the sun came up!”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Dwalin muttered into his beer mug and glared at Bilbo.

Bilbo sighed, shaking his head. It’s not like he _meant_ it. It was the first thing that came into his head and it worked for the most part. At least Thorin was smart enough to get it. He probably was the sharpest one of the lot of the company, really.

 _That_ , Bilbo thought, _is kind of sad_.

Lily entered the parlor. “Dinner is ready,” she announced. Then narrowed her eyes at them. “Have I missed something?”

“No!” they shouted, talking over each other. In retrospect, it was probably more suspicious than it ought to have been. She glanced at Bilbo. “Miles Greene asked after you the other day. You wouldn’t know what that’s about would you?” Bilbo groaned and massaged his head.

“Who’s Miles?” Kili asked.

“Bilbo is there something we should know about?” Bofur added.

“What? No,” he said. “Some kids have a crush on me. I can’t really explain it.”

“ _Crush_?” Dwalin growled. Bilbo started at the dark glares the Dwarves gave him.

“I’m not trying to encourage it,” Bilbo said. “Never have! It just…happens that younger hobbits seem to like that I went on an adventure. They find it attractive. Oh come on! I promised I’d stay in Erebor after everything here is settled. You really think I was going to encourage anything that wasn’t going to last?”

“Let’s discuss this at the table,” Lily suggested. Bilbo agreed. At the very least, he could explain it t them on a full stomach.

To add, he didn’t like the way they whispered to each other. They were plotting something and he really hoped it wasn’t the untimely death of various Hobbits.


	4. Chapter 4

Most festivals celebrated in the Shire took place outside, usually in late spring to mid-autumn before the weather turned for the worst, sending inhabitants inside. Yuletide was the only celebration that took place in winter and the Winter Festival ran about a week around the darkest days of the year to offer prayers to Yavanna in hopes of a quite revival of spring.

This explanation was better received and understood by the Dwarves while they headed to Brandywine Hall. Truth be told, they’d been acting odd all week and Bilbo was suspicious. He all but begged them to behave and all they gave him were too-sweet smiles assuring him they’d on their best behavior.

Bilbo didn’t believe them.

He stopped outside the hall and turned to them. They halted. “If you do _anything_ …”

“We won’t,” Bofur said.

“Swear on my mother’s grave,” Nori added.

“Like we’d dare embarrass you,” Dwalin said.

“Your faith in us is overwhelming, Bilbo. Here I thought we were friends,” Kili said, giving him his best puppy eyes.

Bilbo sighed. “Just try not to kill anyone.”

“Again, ye of little faith,” Kili said. “Would this face lie to you?”

“Yes,” Bilbo deadpanned. “It has lied many times before.” Kili pouted and Bilbo turned away to avoid being drawn into Kili’s attempt at swaying him. As it was, he didn’t trust them. Not right now.

Bilbo stepped toward the door and thanked the young Hobbit greeting them. The dwarves followed after him, a constant guard at his back.

“Bilbo!” An older woman shouted, striding toward them with her arms outstretched. She kissed his cheeks before releasing him. “Dear me, Bilbo, it is good to see you one more time before you depart.”

“Thank you Aunt Mira,” he said. He turned to the Dwarves. “I hope you don’t mind—”

“Of course not!” she said, laughing. “Your presence is an honor, gentlemen. I’m Bilbo’s aunt Mirabella Brandybuck, the mistress of these halls. My husband is a little busy at the moment, but I have to say it is wonderful to have you here, gentleman. I have to thank you for dragging him off on your quest. Bilbo was becoming frightfully dull, his mother would’ve been disappointed.”

Bilbo blushed and hid his face behind a hand, but Mirabella rambled on.

“Belladonna was my older sister, you know. She was also quite the adventurer before marrying Bilbo’s father. She went as far East as Rivendell once. And then Belladonna, Donnamira, and I took a trip to the Grey Havens after I came of age. Met quite a few Elves, but the Dwarves we met while crossing over the Blue Mountains to get there were very courteous.”

Bilbo barked a laugh. Mirabella shot him a look. “Sorry, I didn’t know Dwarves knew _how_ to be courteous given the state they left my house the last time they were here.”

“There was thirteen of us last time,” Bofur reminded him. “I think four Dwarves is a little easier to manage.”

“No bloody kidding,” Bilbo muttered.

“Did I tell you that Drogo is thinking of courting my Prim?”

Bilbo blinked. _Oh boy_. “How’s Uncle Gorbadoc taking that?”

“Oh, as well as can be expected. The house helps,” she said before rushing off to greet someone else. He turned to the Dwarves, who looked a little confused.

“Primula’s twenty-three. Which is about thirteen, fourteen years by Man reckoning.”

“About forty in our reckoning then—wait, how old is Drogo?” Dwalin asked.

“Thirty-five, just a couple years past his majority. For us, that’s thirty-three years.”

“About Kili’s age then,” Nori said.

“Oi, I’m not courting any forty year old dam!”

“Well, courtships can be rather long for us sometimes, especially in this case…” Bilbo nodded. “Yep. Food’s this way.”

He led them through the crowd, introducing them to relatives and neighbors alike. Some had already met the Dwarves and were delighted to see them again. Bilbo had hoped they’d mingle more, but no matter how far they strayed into the crowd, they were also annoyingly close whenever an unwed, young Hobbit approached Bilbo.

Each time they were chased away, Bilbo would glare at them and they’d have the nerve to act all innocent.

“You know I managed to protect my virtue, what little I have of it, all on my own without you lot hovering about.”

“Well, we can’t really tell your _fiancé_ others have been eying you now, can we?” Nori asked. Bilbo glared at him.

“What are you talking—”

“Aye, Thorin would be mighty displeased, wouldn’t he Nori, m’dear?”

“Yes, he would.”

Bilbo blushed. “Now see here—”

“I for one don’t want Uncle mad at me because we couldn’t protect his betrothed,” Kili added.

“I’d hate to find out what would happen to those who dared mess with the Prince Consort-to-be,” Dwalin agreed.

Bilbo shook his head, mortified. “Mad!” he whispered. “You’re all mad!”

“What’s this about being betrothed?” Mrs. Burrows asked.

“Well that explains why he’s planning to leave again,” Mr. Bolger added.

Slowly the lie grew and the dwarves added to it, telling a ridiculous love story while Bilbo could only watch them with growing mortification and ire.

“Bilbo, when were you going to tell us you were going to get married?” Mirabella asked, hands on her hips and tapping her foot.

“What? No! No, no, no! My friends are pulling legs. I’m not engaged—”

“For shame!” Bofur said. “The king would be devastated to hear you say that.”

“Bofur—”

“After we came all this way, too,” Kili sighed. Bilbo flexed his fingers, trying to resist strangling the prince. A dwarf was going to die this night, Bilbo could feel it. He would not be held responsible for his actions at this rate.

“If you don’t stop this nonsense—”

“You hear that?!” Nori said. “Nonsense he says.”

“Ah, ignore him,” Dwalin said. “It’s just pre-wedding jitters.”

“I have a hard time believing Thorin would put you lot up to this,” Bilbo growled.

“Now, Bilbo, there’s no shame in loving another man,” Mirabella said, patting his shoulder.

He turned to her, gaping. It wasn’t that she was wrong—she really wasn’t. There was a reason Bilbo remained a bachelor for as long as he did. Most Hobbits weren’t as free thinking as his Took relatives—but there was _nothing_ going on between him and Thorin.

“Nori, Kili, Bofur, Dwalin, may I have a _word_ with you?” Bilbo snarled. “In private? _Now_? Please?” They followed him away from the party and once sufficiently away from curious and nosy busybodies, he turned on them. “What in the name of all that is good and green do you think you’re doing?!”

“Saving your rather nice arse,” Nori said.

“You’ve more admirers than you think,” Bofur added. “It’s not nice, given that you and Thorin are meant to be. Everyone with a brain could see it. Eyes are helpful, but not necessary whatsoever.”

“I’m not in love with Thorin! He’s not in love with me!”

“Yet,” they chorused. Bilbo threw his hands in the air.

“What is wrong with you?! Thorin and I are just friends! Nothing more.”

“You’ll thank us later,” Nori said.”

“I’m pretty sure I won’t,” Bilbo snarled. “You know, _this_ is not what I meant when I asked you to behave.”

“It was either this or threatening to shave their feet hairs off, since they don’t have any beards,” Dwalin said. Bilbo gaped at them.

“Oh you bastards! You know what? That’s it! I’m writing your brother,” he said, pointing at Dwalin, who threw his head back and cackled. “And yours,” he said to Nori, who scoffed. “And your cousin,” he said to Bofur who snickered. He rounded on Kili, who had that ridiculous Durin trademark smirk on his face. “And _your mother_.”

That shut them all up. Even Dwalin looked a little afraid now. Bilbo smirked.

“That’s right. I’ll write to Lady Dis. Just see if I don’t.”

“He knows not what he speaks,” Kili whispered loudly, his grin returning.

“You think so, eh?”

“How could you? You’ve never met my mother.”

“You mean the same mother of yours that I’ve picked up a nice correspondence with because no one was telling her anything about they thought she’d make me pee myself? True we haven’t met in person yet, but I like her.”

His smile died again. “You haven’t.”

“Oh, but I have. She’s actually quite lovely.”

“Lovely?” Dwalin asked, brow furrowed. “Are we talking about the same Lady Dis? Because there is no way in Mordor that woman is ‘lovely.’ Some of my best scars came from her sword. And we were supposed to ‘just be training.’”

Bilbo nodded. “That sounds like the same Dis to me…early on. She’s has an excellent raspberry crumble recipe. But back to the point—”

“Bilbo Baggins, when were you going to tell the rest of the family you were going to get married?! And to a king no less?” Another woman barked at him. Bilbo sighed.

“You will fix this mess—”

“Not till the eighth Tuesday spring after next,” Bofur shouted. He tipped his hat to her. “Mark it on your calendar, Ma’am.”

Bilbo’s nostrils flared. “I hate you so much right now.”

“You’ll thank me when you and Thorin agree to have your wedding on the eight Tuesday spring after this coming one,” Bofur said with a wink.

Bilbo leaned in close to him. “Watch your hat,” he snarled.

“You wouldn’t,” Bofur said, scandalized, grabbing the flaps of his hat.

“There is very little I wouldn’t do right now. The four of you will be sleeping with one eye open the rest of your stay, believe you me. Now if you excuse me, I have a ball room full of relatives I need to calm down.” He turned and stormed away.

“You think that’s a declaration of war?” he heard Kili ask. Bilbo forced himself to take another deep breath. He was definitely writing Dis before bed tonight.


	5. Chapter 5

Bilbo sent the letters he had sworn to send the night before with the raven after sharing a bit of his breakfast with the bird. He thumbed through the post the raven brought. Three for him from Fili, Dis, and Thorin. Two for Dwalin from Balin and Ori. Another three for Kili from his uncle, brother, and mother. Two for Bofur from Bombur and Bifur. And one for Nori from Ori.

Outside, the sun shone and its brightness magnified on the snow. Bilbo smiled to himself, hoping the sunshine would kick in. Perhaps the road wouldn’t be so bad through the mountains…

 _Not bloody likely_ , he thought as he entered the kitchen to make second breakfast for himself and the others, letters in the study.

Kili helped set the table when he came in. “Are those muffins?”

“That they are,” Bilbo said, shoving the tray into the oven “Though they won’t be ready for second breakfast. If you want some, you’ll have to wait till tea. Kili pouted. “You’ve letters in the study,” Bilbo told him.

Kili jumped up and fled to the study.

“Oi! Do you like blueberries in your pancakes?”

“Not really,” Kili said. “I prefer chocolate chips if you got any. Or cinnamon.”

Bilbo hummed. He had cinnamon.

One pancake piled on top of the other. Cinnamon pancakes, blueberry pancakes, and buttermilk pancakes. There was maple syrup, blueberry syrup, and strawberry syrup along with some apple slices, strawberry preserves, and bananas. And at least ten different types of tea to chose from.

Kili returned with a pen knife in hand, cutting open the first letter. His nose curled.

“What?”

“Uncle.”

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yeah, it might not seem it, but Thorin and I don’t get along as well as you think,” he said, setting it down to open the next one.

“Huh,” Bilbo said. “That’s interesting. You’re a lot like him. Or so I thought.” Kili glared at him. Bilbo grinned. “The look you have right now adds simply adds to my theory.”

“No! I don’t wanna look like Thorin! Ugh!”  Kili shouted, banging his head against the table.

Bilbo threw his head back and laughed. “Honestly, though, Kili, you’re uncle might be hard on you and Fili, but that’s normally how a father figure would treat the lads he raised. My Dad was hard on me too. No one’s perfect, but Thorin tried. And you know he’s been through a lot in his life, so if he’s a bit…emotionally constipated, that would be why. Cut him a little slack, all right?”

“He nags Fili more.”

“See? Brighter side. Fili’s got more on his plate as your uncle’s heir. You got it easy.”

Kili hummed. “I guess so,” he said. “See, this is why you and Thorin work together. You know what’s on his mind, before you left and after you saved him from Azog the first time he showed, Thorin almost never made a move without consulting you first. You might as well get married.”

“He still does,” Bilbo admitted. “He’s always writing me about what to do about this or that. Seriously, why not just ask Balin? He’s got a handle on diplomacy just as well. I’m just an unofficial advisor.”

“Every king needs a hobbit as his court advisor,” Kili muttered. “It’s becoming a bit of a saying in Erebor and Dale.”

“Perhaps, but I don’t get letters from Bard. Or Thranduil or Elrond for that matter,” Bilbo said.

“All right, look,” Kili said. Bilbo turned to him, taken aback by Kili’s tone. “You might not want to accept it, but you and Thorin have been dancing around each other since the quest. Anyone can see that the two of you are in love—”

“Kili, we’re not in love. Thorin and I are just good friends.”

“ _Anyone can see that the two of you are in love except for the_ _two of you_ ,” Kili stressed. “It sets Mum’s teeth on edge and gives Balin a headache whenever he denies it too!”

“Perhaps there’s a reason behind that, such as we really are just good friends. True, we both do prefer males to females, but why would that mean we’d fall in love with each other?”

“He gets a dopey smile on his face whenever your letters arrive.”

“Contrary to popular belief, Kili, your uncle does know how to smile, even if you do think he’s eaten a bad mushroom when he does.”

Nori stepped in. “Am I missing something? Ooh, pancakes.”

“Bilbo’s in denial,” Kili said.

“What else is new?” Nori asked.

“You’ve a letter from Ori,” Bilbo said, trying to change the topic. “It’s in the study if you want to read it before breakfast. Which, I should say, Kili _read_ your letters and leave my love life, and your uncle’s, or lack thereof, alone.”

Nori shook his head, muttering something that sounded like, “ _deniiiiiaaaaal_ ,” as he sauntered from the kitchen to the study.  Bilbo closed his eyes and counted backwards from ten. If this was what Thorin had to deal with frequently, then he had Bilbo’s pity.

“Where’re Bofur and Dwalin?”

“Still asleep, likely,” Kili said, turning back to the second letter. “I think they took your threat to heart. Dwalin was outside my room all night and he was snoring when I got up.”

Bilbo smirked. “How do you think he’d look if I dyed his hair orange or blue?”

Kili snorted. “He’s dyed it blue before. Go orange. But be careful. A whiff of mischief or danger will wake him and you don’t want that.”

“No, not likely,” Bilbo agreed. “I’ll get Bofur up if you get Dwalin.” Kili paled and gulped. “It can’t be that bad.”

“Oh, it certainly can be. Do you have a pole? Something you don’t mind getting broken because I’d really like to keep my arm, if you know what I mean.”

Bilbo rolled his eyes and left the kitchen. “You’re the prince. You’re safe.”

Kili shook his head, following him. “No one is safe. How about you wake him up.”

“But Kili, you have a bigger chance of coming out of this alive,” Bilbo assured him patting his back before entering Nori’s and Bofur’s room. Kili glared at him.

“If a healer needs to be fetched, you’ll know why.”

“I will not account for Dwalin’s actions,” Bilbo snapped, shooing Kili away. Kili stuck his tongue at him before heading to Dwalin. Bilbo shook Bofur’s shoulder. “Breakfast is ready.”

“Just five more minutes,” he mumbled. Bilbo rolled his eyes and yanked the hat off Bofur’s head. The result was instant. Bofur lunged at him and Bilbo backed away, holding the hat out of Bofur’s reach. “Bilbo! No! Give it back! Don’t hurt it! Please! I’ll do anything!"

Bilbo stared at him incredulously and tossed it back at him. Bofur hugged the hat like a child would a stuffed toy. “It survives another day,” Bilbo promised. “There are pancakes in the kitchen and you’ve letters from your family.” A war cry echoed through the house followed by a shrill scream and a crash.

“Who woke Dwalin up?”

“I had Kili do it,” Bilbo said.

Bofur shook his head. “Not wise. Not wise at all.”

“You’ll all live,” he said. “I doubt Dwalin hurt him that badly. Now come eat. Then if it suits you, you can go back to sleep. Or,” he lowered his voice. “Help me dye Dwalin’s beard orange.”

Bofur shuddered. “You’re scary when you’re vengeful, you know?”

Bilbo grinned. “Oh, I know.”

“Well, I’ve no death wish, so good luck with that,” Bofur said, heading to the kitchen.

Kili ran past Bilbo, shouting at Dwalin in Khuzdul. It sounded desperate and pleading. Bilbo grinned as Dwalin cornered Kili behind the couch.

It wasn’t intentional, but at least he wouldn’t need to get back at Kili. At least until he did something just as stupid as spreading falsehoods about Bilbo’s relationship with Thorin.

#

_Dear Bilbo,_

_I would be cross if your reason for being late was not so reasonable. As it is, I do not control the weather any more than you, so for now you are pardoned, you prick._

_I hope my nephew is behaving himself. If not, I trust you know what to do. Dis will likely send word to you, but be warned there might be a list of possible things Kili hates which you could choose from if he misbehaves. If you’ve not noticed, my family’s a bit vindictive at our best._

_I also want to warn you about Dwalin. Don’t wake him up if he’s sleeping. He tends to go into a rather nasty berserker rage if he is. Best let him wake on his own otherwise your house will suffer needlessly. Or you own person._

_If Bofur and Nori get up to something, just bang on the door until they shut up or something. (This is Bifur’s suggestion. Dori would rather ignore it and use earplugs.)_

_One other thing: Dis wants to throw you a welcome-home party when you return. She wanted it to be a surprise, but I get the feeling you’d hate that, so let us know when you’re setting out and be warned. At least try to act surprised when you get back. _

_Until we meet again,_

_Thorin Oakenshield_

_Dear Thorin,_

_I’ve noticed Dwalin tends to go berserk. I had Kili wake him. He nearly destroyed the living room! You’d not believe the state of it. Kili deserved it though._ _I think I can handle Kili without Dis’ suggestions, thank you (and what suggestions they are! Vindictive doesn’t nearly describe your family well enough). _ _And if Nori and Bofur are going at it, I’ve yet to hear them._

_The four of them told my relatives we were getting married the spring after next._ _On that note, have you any idea how I can sneak on Dwalin to dye his beard orange without waking him? And perhaps how best to get revenge on Nori?_

_Sincerely,_

_Bilbo Baggins_


	6. Chapter 6

It’d been two weeks since the winter festival and the snow had finally let up. They’d be able to leave in a week if it held. Bilbo was eager to leave, piling the things he meant to bring with him into a cart. They’d buy a pony or two the morning they left.

Bilbo laid out a breakfast of various scones before three of the Dwarves as they waited for Dwalin to wake—Bilbo had set aside some raspberry scones just for him—when they were startled by a loud, horrified, curdling scream. A great grin spread over Bilbo’s face when he heard the cry of distress. Bofur, Kili, and Nori seemed to shrink in their seats at the breakfast table as Dwalin stormed into the room.

“Who did this?” he growled low.

The others howled with laughter and Bilbo had to sit down before he toppled over. He feared he might topple over anyway. Bilbo made a mental note to thank Thorin in his next letter because Dwalin’s beard was bright sunset orange. Just the beard and a little bit of his mustache. The rest of his hair remained as black as it always was. Dwalin’s eyes landed on Bilbo.

“You!”

Bilbo coughed. “Would you like a scone?” he asked, motioning to the spread.

“I am going to rip your limbs off for this, Burglar!”

“Oh, please, you can’t say you’re not impressed. It was difficult enough being sneaky given how you are when woken up. That I managed to get your beard the right shade of orange is a miracle in itself. To add, it does look good once you get over the shock.”

Bofur burst into loud guffaws and fell off his chair.

“You’re keeping it till we get to Erebor,” Nori said. Dwalin glared at him, but Nori’s grin widened. “I will make sure of it. Who knows, Ori might like it.”

Kili turned to Bilbo and shook his head. Bilbo snorted into his coffee.

“I’d like to see you try and stop me,” Dwalin growled before turning on his heel and toward the bathroom.

“If it’s any comfort, I’m still trying to figure out where he put my knives,” Nori called after him. “I’m still wondering how he managed _that_.”

And Bilbo wasn’t going to tell him, given that Nori was a lighter sleeper and more dangerous than Dwalin ever could be. Bofur had been easy. Bilbo had stolen Bofur’s hat and given it to one of his little cousins while they played in the snow. By the time Bofur got it back, it was sticky with honey and needed to be washed. It was the only prank Bilbo had felt bad over in the end and at least they got the honey out.

“What about Kili?” Bofur asked as he returned to his chair.

“I sic’d him on Dwalin and he paid the price. What? Is that not good enough?”

“It is for me,” Kili said.

“Bilbo, that is weak,” Nori said. “Anyone could’ve suffered Dwalin’s wrath in the morning. You clearly can do better.”

“No he can’t,” Kili snapped. “Dwalin almost killed me that morning!”

“He didn’t though,” Bofur said. Kili glared at him and took a bite out of a scone.

#

“Rent is collected every first Mersday of the month,” Bilbo reminded Drogo as he walked him through what he should do as a landlord. “I’ve written down instructions as to what you should do if there’s a problem either with the house or with one of the renter’s along with addresses and a sample request form.” Drogo nodded, looking through the folio. He looked a little queasy, so Bilbo patted his back. “You’ll do fine, lad. And if Lobelia gives you trouble…”

“I’ll tell her to shove off,” Drogo said. “Though I’m not sure I’ll be as polite, Bilbo.”

“She’s been put in her place once all ready, but she might regain whatever nerve she had. And if she still persists, well, you’ll know how to reach me and the Thain.” Drogo nodded, still staring at the folio. “I heard you were thinking of courting Primula Brandybuck,” Bilbo said.

Drogo tensed and looked at Bilbo. He looked like a rabbit caught in a hunter’s trap. “I…well…”

Bilbo patted his shoulder. “Don’t stress yourself, Lad. I wish you all the luck with her. I feel you’ll need it.”

Drogo rolled his eyes. “Gee, thank you, Bilbo. You’re support as usual is overwhelming.”

Bilbo grinned. “The deed is in there too and here is the key to Bag End.” He reached into his pocket and handed the key to Drogo. “Now you are officially the Master of Bag End and head of the Baggins family. Good luck.”

“Thanks, and have a safe journey, Bilbo,” Drogo said.

Bilbo grinned at him. “Thank you,” he said, grabbing his pack. He stepped out of the house and inhaled the cold, fresh winter air. It somewhat stung his lungs.

 _Time to go back_ , he thought and approached the covered cart.

Nori, Bofur, and Kili were in the back. Dwalin was up front, face covered with a scarf from Ori—he’d still not had the chance to dye his beard black again. Nori’s had no intention of letting him return without showing off his new beard—and several blankets on the wooden seat.

Good traveling conditions aside it was still quite chilly.

Bilbo climbed next to him, fixing his cloak and wrapping a blanket over his legs and feet before taking the reins, urging the ponies, two mares named Berry and Lily, into an amble.

“Our first stop will be Bree,” Dwalin said. “We’ve enough food to last that till then. We’ll restock again at Rivendell—yes, I know. Thorin doesn’t like it any better than I, but the Elves heard you’d be back their way and were pushy about you visiting again.”

Bilbo chuckled. “I, well, Elrond’s a good friend. We exchange letters nearly as often as I do with Thorin.”

“What?!” Kili shouted. “You write that Elf?! What if he fancies you?!”

“Elrond is widowed, Kili, and is still very much in love with his wife. We’re just friends! Unlike your uncle, he doesn’t ask for my advice. It’s been a couple years since I’ve been to Rivendell so if anything this visit is long overdue. Besides, you’re not one to complain about befriending Elves. Weren’t you aiming to court Thranduil’s captain of the guard when I saw you two last?” Kili scowled and Bilbo fought down a wince. “What happened and why didn’t I hear about this sooner?”

“Well, at least if I’m stuck in a room with Legolas, we can drink our sorrows away. After you left, Legolas and I had been trying to court Tauriel. Neither of us was successful. She rejected us both, saying we weren’t her type. We thought she meant she preferred mortal Men…nope. Arwen Undomiel, Elrond’s daughter, visited Mirkwood in the summer and Tauriel asked Elrond for permission to court Arwen if she’d have her. Elrond agreed and Arwen accepted her suit. They’re still together last I heard.”

“Oh, Kili, I’m sorry,” Bilbo said.

“It’s all right,” he sighed. “I’m over it.” He wasn’t. Or at least not yet.

Kili disappeared into the cart and Bilbo exchanged a glance at Dwalin, who shook his head.

“Our people love too strongly and fiercely,” he whispered. “Thankfully, this fancy wasn’t long enough for it to bloom to love. It’s less a wounded heart and more wounded pride at the moment.”

“Still not any easier to deal with,” Bilbo replied, turning his gaze back to the road.

Dwalin shrugged. “We’ve all got our One somewhere. Kili’s is likely an Elf, way he acts around them. Thorin might not like it, but he knows not to stop it. Simply put, you might suspect your One is part of another race based on the way you act around them, but for the most part, there’s no sure way to tell who your One actually is until you’re in a relationship with them.”

“Is it so different for Dwarves?” Bilbo asked.

“Not really,” Dwalin said. “There’s still trial and error like with the other races.”

“Huh.”

“It’s usually more obvious for others at first. For instance, Fili and Thorin just looked at Tauriel and how she interacted with Kili and they _knew_ it wouldn’t work out. Same with how you and Thorin acted around each other. Everyone else could just tell the two of you were meant to be.”

Bilbo groaned. “For Yavanna’s sake, we’re just _friends_!”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Dwalin said, saluting one of the Hobbits he befriended over the last month as they left the borders of Hobbiton and into Bywater. The rest of the way out of the Shire that day was silent save for a rather loud game of cards in the cart behind them.

Before dusk, they camped out just off the road in Budgeford.

While Bilbo cooked, they discussed who’d take first watch. It was agreed that whoever drove the cart that day would be exempted from watch duty, which meant Bilbo didn’t have to worry about keeping watch until after they left the Shire tomorrow.  

Tonight, he and Dwalin could sleep while Nori, Bofur, and Kili divided the watch. Kili took the first shift and Nori would take the last.

Bilbo didn’t see much point in having someone keep watch until after they left the Shire, but the Dwarves would not be swayed this time around anymore than the last time he traveled with them. So he handed out the hot stew and watched them devour it while it was still hot and offered seconds once he was sure everyone had at least one bowl.

Most of them gathered in the cart to sleep, huddled together and sharing warmth while Kili tried to keep from freezing up front with the ponies.

The last thing Bilbo thought before finally falling asleep was roaring fires and hot apple cider.

#

_Dear Thorin,_

_We should’ve waited till spring to leave the Shire._

_I’m currently writing from Bree and I have to say, we might stay here longer as none of us are all that eager to leave a warm hearth just yet. Dwalin’s against it. He’s afraid someone might try to steal my belongings if we stay longer than we planned. Either way, we’re on our way at last!_

_When we have the time to write back, we’ll be in Rivendell. Stop scowling, you’re disapproval can be felt from Erebor to Ered Luin. Elrond is a good friend of mine and it’s been nearly as long since I’ve seen him as I have you and the others. Besides, I’m not moving there, so take comfort in that. Okay? _

_Your friend,_

_Bilbo Baggins_

_PS: Thank you for suggesting that I use a knockout drug. Dwalin still doesn’t suspect. Neither does Nori. I doubt he found all of his dagger before he left. He seemed a little put out when we loaded the cart. You’ll love what I did to Dwalin’s beard._

_Dear Bilbo,_

_Don’t stay with the Elves too long. I’m afraid they’ll kidnap you or convince you to stay with them longer than you should. Friend or not, I wouldn’t trust Elrond with my life let alone yours. Can’t properly feed anyone for his life._

_Keep an eye on Kili for me, will you? I’d hate for him to come back with an Elf on his arm…I’m still adjusting to that possibility. Hopefully he’ll wait till I’m dead and buried to find his One. Otherwise his poor uncle will pass to the Halls of Aulë dishonorably due to a heart attack or aneurism. _

_Truly,_

_Thorin Oakenshield_

_PS: You’re welcome. I look forward to seeing what you did to it. It better be funny._


	7. Chapter 7

Rivendell in winter was just as magnificent as it was in summer. The trees out front had lost their leaves, and the air was nippier in the valley, but still as beautiful as ever. The Dwarves huddled together, glowering at the architecture. Bilbo ignored them as they approached the archway. A pair of Elves greeted them offering to take the ponies to Elrond’s stable. Bilbo thanked them. He and the Dwarves watched the ponies be led away.

Bilbo stretched. “So good to be back…”

“Speak for yourself,” Nori muttered.

Bilbo turned on them and placed his hands on his hips. “This time, _I_ do the talking,” he said. “Thank Yavanna Thorin’s not here. Maybe we’ll eat better this time. So keep your comments about the architecture, the food, and the service to yourselves and _maybe_ this time, they won’t feel inclined to feed you salad.” They grumbled their assurances, but Bilbo didn’t believe them.

“Master Baggins.”

Bilbo turned and grinned. “Hello, Lindir!” he said. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Same. We expected you sooner.”

“Well, the weather ended up deciding things for us,” Bilbo admitted, scratching the back of his head. “Did my letter not come?”

“Lord Elrond thought that might be the case. And it did, there are rooms for everyone. Now, perhaps we should get out of the cold. The valley may be beautiful, but in winter, the air gets quiet harsh.” Bilbo and Lindir ignored the sarcastic bite of _you don’t say_ from behind them.

The rooms chosen for them were secluded with fur blankets piled on the beds and hearths already lit. Bilbo glared at the Dwarves until they thanked Lindir. It was entertaining to watch Dwalin spew out a thank you, then shudder as though he just had to swim in a polluted river.

“I do apologize, Lindir,” Bilbo said as they walked to Bilbo’s temporary room.

“No need. Their Dwarves. I’m afraid my people and theirs have always had difficulty seeing eye to eye. Nor does it seem like that will change any time soon. They seem to have better manners this time around, though.”

“That would be me. I told them to keep their traps shut. Not working as well as I hoped.”

“It’s better than last time…”

“Last time, _Thorin_ was here. Half of what they did he encouraged. Blasted Dwarf was a menace at the best of times, I swear to the gods.”

“Yet you decided to call his kingdom your home,” Lindir pointed out.

“Well, we had our differences and to be quite honest, the company had become the family I never had in years,” Bilbo admitted. “If I were to have had brothers, I get the feeling they’d be a lot like most of the company. Some actually resemble my rowdier cousins. Thorin asked me to stay…actually he asked me to not leave at all, but well, some things needed to be sorted out, so here I am. Going back to Erebor after all this time…I’m not keen on crossing the mountain again, though.”

“No, I suppose not. Will you all be okay? If you have concerns, perhaps Lord Elrond wouldn’t mind assisting you’re travel over the pass.”

“I’ll consider it,” Bilbo said, smiling at him. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

“Of course,” Lindir said, returning the grin. “We’re having venison tonight by Lady Arwen’s request. Her partner happens to like it.”

Bilbo’s grin died. “Tauriel is here?”

“Both Lady Tauriel and Lady Arwen will be here soon. Why?”

“Oh, um, no reason,” Bilbo said.

After Lindir left and Bilbo felt settled in enough, he went to Kili’s room to warn him. He figured it was the least he could do. He knocked on the door and waited for Kili to answer. Thankfully he didn’t have to wait long.

“Don’t speak until I’ve finished,” Bilbo said, pushing his way in. “Lindir informed me that Tauriel will be here with Lady Arwen, and I figured it’d best if you weren’t caught unaware.”

Kili’s confusion morphed into a mix of annoyance and disgruntled. “Mahal is angry at me, isn’t he?”

“I don’t think he would be so vindictive if he was,” Bilbo assured him. “It’s just a coincidence, Kili.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Perhaps not, but neither do I know if fate is real. Would you rather feign illness?”

“No,” Kili sighed, sitting on the bed. “I’ll manage.”

Bilbo wasn’t sure about that. Kili had been smitten with Tauriel and still felt slighted by her rejection. He patted Kili’s shoulder. “No one thinks less of you, Kili, you know that, right?” Kili shrugged. Bilbo crossed his arms. “There’s no shame in needing more time separate from her if you don’t feel ready to face her.”

“That’s cowardly.”

“I think it’s just natural.”

“Bilbo it was more than a year ago,” Kili said.

“And you still haven’t gotten over it,” Bilbo reminded him. “You’re not ready to face them just yet.” He sighed. “Alright, if you think you can handle it, go ahead, but I expect you to be on your best behavior. Be civil to them, at the very least. Okay?”

“Yes, Uncle,” Kili said, “Is that all?”

“Yes, I suppose it is. And don’t call me _uncle_.”

“Sooner or later you have to accept it,” Kili sang, smirking at him. Bilbo smacked the back of his head and scowled at him.

The nerve of these Dwarves!

#

The Dwarves followed Bilbo into a more enclosed dining hall with windows high up into the walls to let in fresh air and three large hearths. The table was set with various breads and salad over a fire in the middle of the hall was a spit with the promised venison roasting.

Elrond greeted them and placed Bilbo at his right with Kili beside Bilbo, across from Elrond’s sons; one of them being a young lad of twelve or thirteen years and of Man origin who engaged Kili in a conversation about Dwarven culture. Before dinner was even ready to be served, the boy—Estel—was begging Elrond to let him visit Erebor.

“When you’re older,” Elrond promised.

“I’m older than I was a couple years ago!” Estel argued.

“Still not old enough,” the elder twin—Bilbo couldn’t remember which was which—said, ruffling Estel’s hair. “Give it another…four, five years.” Estel glared at him, pushing the hand away with threats of biting. Elrond sighed, massaging his head. He offered a longsuffering yet affectionate smile and Bilbo shrugged. He’d not had any hand in raising a child, and he doubted he ever would. Bilbo hadn’t the patience for little ones most of the time. Tweens, on the other hand, he could handle them.

Elrond’s gaze shifted away from his silent conversation with Bilbo and he stood, grinning.

“ _Na vedui_ , _Ielig,_ ” Elrond greeted, approaching a brunette she-Elf standing beside Tauriel. He embraced her before turning to Tauriel, who bowed, exchanging a few more words quietly with each other. Kili slumped in his seat, staring at his plate.

Bilbo elbowed his sides. “Sit up and stop brooding.”

“I’m not brooding,” Kili retorted, sitting up again. He still didn’t look up.

“Are you sure you want to be here?” Bilbo asked.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Kili snapped. Bilbo frowned at him and Kili had the sense to look remorseful. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get snippy. It’s just—”

“Kili, I understand. I do. Just don’t take out your anger on me, all right? I had enough of _that_ from Thorin.”

“I know,” Kili said. “And I am sorry…”

Bilbo accepted it. “You’ll be fine. Okay?”

“Argh!” Lindir shouted. Bofur stood frozen. Tauriel glared at them and Bilbo hid his face in his hands. Lindir wiped the pudding off his face. “You…”

“Food fight!” Nori shouted. Bilbo threw his hands up as food went flying. That Elrond’s sons joined in was a negative point in their maturity, no matter how much Elrond shouted at them. Arwen and Tauriel ducked for cover and Bilbo felt a bread roll hit his ear.

 _Is it too much to ask for them to behave?_ He thought. He saw a slab of venison hit Estel in the face and sighed. _Apparently it is._

#

_Dear Thorin,_

_We’ve arrived safely to Rivendell. I wish that is all I had t say, but it is not._

_They started a food fight our first night here! A food fight, Thorin! Is it so much to ask them to behave themselves! Apparently, the pudding Bofur threw was not supposed to hit Lindir, but Dwalin. Seems they got into an argument of sorts, but STILL!!! There was a lad there! What sort of example do they think they’re setting for him?_

_The whole incident spiked into a prank war of sorts between the Elves and Dwarves. Kili’s yet to find a proper hair product to get rid of the bleach! Elrond’s boys are incorrigible. More than Fili and Kili ever were. I feel sorry for him._

_Other than that, Kili had the chance to talk to Tauriel. Seems all will be well between them, for which I am glad. Seems they’ll be able to still be friends._

_Truly,_

_Very irate and possibly quite dangerous at the moment,_

_Bilbo_

_Dear Evil Overlord Baggins,_

_I wish I was there to see that. Elves mature more slowly than all the other races. I’m not surprised Elrond’s sons joined in. Must’ve been fun._

_Unless Kili’s stopped brooding over her, there is no hope to be had, even if they are talking again._

_Sincerely laughing his arse off,_

_Thorin_

_Kili, Bofur, Nori, and Dwalin,_

_I heard about the food fight in Rivendell. Bilbo told me._

_Good job._

_Kili, Dwalin. You aren’t allowed to do anything about your hair until I’ve had a chance to see it myself._

_Thorin_

_Dear Uncle,_

_Screw you._ _I’ve already dyed it black again._

_Your favorite nephew,_

_Kili_

_Dear Kili,_

_You’re as eloquent as your uncle at his best. Don’t swear at him. It only makes him laugh harder than he already has and we don’t want to have him die of suffocation._

_Love,_

_Amad_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Sindarin~
> 
> Na vedui, Ielig= well met, my daughter.


	8. Chapter 8

Bilbo stared at the mountain pass and glanced at the others. “Are we sure we _must_ go through the pass?” he asked them.

Dwalin sighed. “It’s the fastest way,” he said. “If we go north, we risk running into more Orcs. If we go south we’d just have to walk north again and find ourselves among Men settlements.”

“There’s few enough of us,” Bilbo reminded him. “I doubt we’d pose much threat."

“We’d be too close to Gondor,” Kili said. “The Men of Gondor are asses at best.”

“Oh. So their like Dwarves of Erebor but taller?” Bilbo asked, smirking despite the glares sent his way. “Come on, we’d be closer to Isengard and Rohan. Would that be so bad?”

“It’d take more than a month to get around the pass,” Nori said. “This way, it’d only be a week at most. Sooner we get home the better, even if going south is tempting. Besides, it’ll take longer than before since we have to go on foot before we make it to Beorn’s.”

“It really is,” Bilbo said, wrapping his cloak tighter around him. “We should write Beorn. Let him know we’re heading his way." Bofur urged Berry and Lily forward and Bilbo stuck his hand in his pocket, seeking the Ring. He didn’t look for it often, but it was a fair comfort when he—

 _Not there_.

He checked his other pockets before heading for one of his bags. Not there either.

“What is it?” Kili asked.

“My ring,” Bilbo said. “I think I left it in Bag End.” He slumped against the cart and sighed. “I didn’t even realize I left it till now.”

It hurt like a phantom limb, though the stump was already healed. Bilbo sighed. He never really needed the ring anyway. It was handy the first time around, but it wasn’t really needed. Bilbo decided to let Drogo know it was there, somewhere. He even debated asking him to mail it, but thought better of it. If he really didn’t need it then what was the harm in letting Drogo have it?

“You sure you’re all right, Bilbo? You look rather broken up about it?”

“I am, but there’s no point in thinking anything of it,” he said, smiling at Kili. “I’ll be fine. I’m acting like a fool, thinking more on it, aren’t I? But I really don’t need it. I’ll get used to not having it around.”

“I can make you a new ring when we get back,” Kili offered. “I mean, it wouldn’t be magical like the other one, but it’d look the same, at least.”

“Thank you, but I think I’ll be fine. I just need to pull myself together a little bit.”

“Okay,” Kili said.

Bilbo wrapped the blanket tighter around him and shivered. _Funny that I never noticed till now that it was gone_ , he thought. He huddled closer into a ball and pulled the blanket over his head as they began their ascent into the pass.

#

There were no outrageous blizzards or storms trying to knock them off their path. No Goblin attacks at night. No stone giants, but everyone was warier as they made their way across. Even finding a way down to the valley and past the carrock was peaceful.

Bilbo wrote Beorn once they were over the pass, sending the letter with a raven which never returned after. Bilbo wished it did, it’d be nice to know that they were welcomed. But his doubts were wiped away when Beorn met them outside his house.

“You all took your time,” he said, grinning at them.

“Well, traveling in winter is never all that favorable,” Bilbo said, returning the smile as the Dwarves climbed out. They followed Beorn inside and the horses were sent to the stables.

“Tell me how you’ve been since you were last this way, Little Bunny.”

Bilbo fought down a cringe at the nickname and told him about his thieving relatives, how the Shire has been, passing his house to one of his more favorable kinsmen, and some of the terrible things his remorseless companions did there.

Beorn laughed at the pranks and took to staring at Dwalin’s beard. Dwalin glared at Bilbo, who avoided his gaze and munched on a freshly baked honey cake.

#

_Dear Thorin,_

_We made it safely to Beorn’s and might be here a few days. We made it over the mountain safely for once, thank Yavanna and Aulë. Once we’re ready to brave the cold again, we’ll be going through Mirkwood. I know you’re grinding your teeth again but unless you want us to be delayed because we had to go around it may very well be closer to summer by the time we arrive and I for one do not intend to go without a warm bed and hearth that long no matter how tempting Rohan sounds. The others may protest, but Rohan sounds like a delightful place full of sun! They did say there’s not much green there, though…pity. I may be able to show them a way to keep the earth from drying out._

_Anyway, we’re almost home—goodness, I’m already referring to the mountain as home! Probably for the best as I am moving there…_

_Until we meet again!_

_Bilbo_

_To the Elvenking Thranduil Opherion,_

_Greetings and good tidings on your house!_

_A few of my companions and I will be passing through your forest in a matter of days and I am hoping that you may grant us leave to pass through it. We have had a long journey from the West and hope to arrive at Erebor as soon as possible._

_I am aware the circumstances of our last crossing in your forest was both unannounced and therefore unfavorable to you, so I hope that a letter stating our intentions to pass through your abode would make our presence better received. We will be out of your hair as quickly as it takes to get through the forest given that we do not get lost again._

_Sincerely,_

_Bilbo Baggins_

_To Master Bilbo Baggins soon-to-be-of Erebor,_

_Your request for safe passage will be granted. I will also grant a guard to aid you through your journey. I do however request that you and your companions stay in my house at least a night. I may not enjoy catering to Dwarves, but a particular Hobbit of the Shire is always welcome in my court. If I must suffer the company of Dwarves to have you as a guest in my house once more, then so be it._

_Truly,_

_Thranduil Opherion_

_King of the Woodland Realm_

_Dear Bilbo,_

_I would not blame you if you had to take a few days to go around the forest. Rohan is actually quite lovely, even if it is less green than the Shire. They have a suitable irrigation system and you might like their wild flowers._

_Since I know you’re likely not going to go around the forest, at least make the journey through it quick. I’m sure everyone is eager to get home and the less time you all spend around Elves the better. So get your asses here all ready!_

_Thorin_

_Dear Thorin,_

_Behave yourself. Besides, you’re about a day too late. I already agreed to at least have a dinner with Thranduil._

_Bilbo_

_Bilbo, why?!_

_Thorin_

#

“You could stay a little longer,” Beorn said as they hitched Berry and Lily to the wagon again outside the house.

Bilbo looked at him. “Unless a storm is coming, then we best be off,” he said. “But think of it this way: at least the journey back wouldn’t be as long.”

“Aye, that is true,” Beorn huffed, crossing his arms. “Take care of yourself, Little Bunny.”

“I will.”

“We’ll take care of him too,” Kili added, pouting.

“I don’t trust Dwarves _that_ much.”

“Oi!” Bofur snapped, hugging Bilbo. “We love our Hobbit just as much as you! Get your own!”

“I don’ think they’d like that,” Beorn said.

“Probably not,” Dwalin agreed, climbing into the wagon. “We’re ready. “Let’s go. The faster we get through the forest the better.”

Bilbo nodded, feeling a little nervous. He hadn’t told the others about his letter to Thranduil and the answer he had received from him. He wasn’t sure how to tell them and figured it’d be easier to tell them. Of course, he still had Thranduil’s letter. The Elf was a master at handing out compliments and insults in the same breath. It was one thing to tell Thorin to behave, but Bilbo felt that Thranduil was a sort of lost cause at times.

Still, they made their way to Mirkwood and once at the forest entrance, the Dwarves spied the Elves and looked at Bilbo. He smiled nervously. “Surprised?”

“Not really,” Nori said.

“Do we _have_ to go with them?” Kili asked.

“For goodness sakes, Tauriel isn’t here!”

“But Legolas _is_.”

“So?”

“Remember that little war we were having?”

“For goodness sakes, Kili, you were both rejected!”

“It’s still going on.”

“Maybe _he’s_ your One. Did you think of that?”

“Ways to send two kings to an early grave: date your uncle’s worst enemy’s son,” Nori joked. Bofur broke into a fit of laughter, clutching his stomach.

“Look,” Bilbo said, “We need to get through the forest as fast as possible, right? I figured letting the Elves know would be prudent and Thranduil offered not only a guide but also a night at his palace. If you behave I’m sure he will too. Pull a stunt like at Rivendell again and you’ll know my full wrath.”

“What are you going to do?” Kili asked, smirking. “Dye our hair again.”

“I might actually cut your hair.”

This was met with a collective, horrified gasp.

“You wouldn’t,” Bofur hissed. Bilbo grinned nastily.

“I would. I _so_ would. I’d do it to the Elves too. I get the feeling they have a similar take on hair as the Dwarves, given how long their locks tend to be.”

“Well,” Kili said. “I guess we have no choice.” They stopped the wagon and climbed out. Legolas looked a little queasy, but he hid it well enough. A couple Elves were stroking their hair protectively.

“Kili,” Legolas said.

“Legolas. I take it you heard?”

“Our senses are better than most. So yes, we did.” He turned to Bilbo. “My father welcomes you, Master Baggins. And I’ll let him know that your threats are not to be taken lightly.” His eyes shifted to Dwalin’s beard and Dwalin growled, pulling the scarf over his face again. “Shall we, Master Baggins?”

“Yes! Please. Lead on,” Bilbo said. They climbed back in the wagon and followed the Elves into the forest. Bilbo sent a silent prayer that everyone would behave themselves.

He hoped it wasn’t too much to ask, but deep down, he knew it was.


	9. Chapter 9

Thranduil descended his throne on their arrival and knelt to take Bilbo’s hands in his. “ _Mellon nin,_ ” he said. “You have long been missed.”

“I thought two years would pass as nothing to an Elf,” Bilbo said cheekily as Thranduil stood up.

“And yet the life of mortals is too easily snuffed. Anything could have happened to you in those two years,” he said, returning Bilbo’s smile. “The dining hall is this way.”

“Thank you!”

“You are certain you can only stay the night?” Thranduil asked, glancing at the Dwarves with Bilbo. “I would think you’d rather like to take a longer break.”

“We had a fairly long break with Master Beorn.”

“Ah. He is a far more amiable host to Dwarves than I. I suppose I can let it go. However, if you can, you would be most welcome to attend the Feast of Beren and Luthien.”

The dwarves groaned, but Bilbo ignored them, sending a rude gesture with his finger at them behind his back: a not-so-subtle reminder that they best behave unless they want their hair to suffer. “I have heard Elves make quite a festivity of the Feast and one day I’d be glad to see it, but I’m afraid I’d rather take the time to settle in, you know?”

Thranduil sighed dramatically. “ I can understand that. It has been a long journey from the Shire, I take it? However, I hope it’s a far more pleasant journey than the first time.”

“It is.” Two servants opened doors for them, pushing them inward to admit the king and his guests. The table was set with silver plates and glass goblets inlaid in gold. Bilbo stared at them. “These aren’t Elven make.” He noted.

“They’re a peace offering from the Dwarves. We are far from…friends,” Thranduil said, taking a seat at the head of the table with Legolas to his right and Bilbo his left. “But this is the first of many exchanges we’ve made with each other.”

“You and Thorin? Getting along? I never thought I’d hear that!”

“No so much getting along as…having no other choice but to be decent to each other.” A servant’s approached with silver pitchers to pour red wine into the cups. “So we’ve agreed to a sort of trade system. We provide textiles, lumber, permit their hunters to venture into the forest, in return they create pottery, jewelry, clothing…allow us into their mountain when we ask. Of course, such things require permits.”

“Seems to me like you’ve come up with a rather good system.”

“You should know,” Thranduil said. “Or are you losing your memory so young, Mr. Baggins? This…system, as you call it, is one you suggested.”

Bilbo blinked. “It is?” He furrowed his brow, thinking. “Oh! Of course! Six months after being back in the Shire Thorin wrote me to complain about Elves—which is more common than you know. I guess you two both agreed it’d work.”

"Doesn’t make Elves any less conniving little—”

“ _Kili_ ,” Bilbo warned.

“No,” Legolas said, narrowing his eyes at Kili. “Let him speak. You think _we’re_ conniving, Master Kili? For I know we are not _little_. At least not as little as Dwarves.”

“We’re the perfect height, thank you very much!”

Thranduil sighed, looking at his goblet before waving for a servant to fill it almost to the brim. Bilbo cleared his throat. “ _Watch. Your. Hair._ ” He growled. Thranduil raised a brow as Legolas and Kili backed down. Legolas tried to be discreet in running his hand through his straight locks.

“Do I want to know?”

“Let’s just say that there is a reason Master Dwalin’s beard is such an interesting color,” Bilbo said, raising his glass to his lips with a smile. Dwalin glared at him for perhaps the millionth time and hid his face behind a scarf.

Thranduil laughed. “That, I see, is a fair warning if ever. Is anyone safe from you, Master Baggins?”

Bilbo shook his head. “I don’t believe so.”

#

The Dwarves behaved wonderfully. As did most of the Elves.

Except Kili and Legolas.

Bilbo wasn’t sure how Kili managed it, but a scream ringing against the walls late in the night was enough to wake Bilbo in time to see Legolas hanging onto a branch as a wolf tried to bite him. True, it was only playing, and being quite excitable, but that didn’t keep the danger at bay.

Too add, Kili looked far too pleased with himself when the wolf was finally caught and calmed down long enough for Legolas to get down.

“You coward!” he shouted, approaching Kili, face quite red for an Elf. “Fight me fairly!”

“Now?” Kili asked, blinking innocently at him. Bilbo stepped between them.

“Go back to bed, both of you,” he said. Bilbo stopped Kili, seizing his tunic. “I told you to behave yourself,” he snapped. “Is this behaving to you?!”

“It was tame.”

“That dog could’ve ripped Legolas’ throat out!”

“But it didn’t.”

“ _Kili!_ ”

“Fine, I’ll apologize in the morning,” he said, rolling his eyes. Bilbo let him go to bed. Once he returned to his own room, he sighed. The way they acted was just like…

Oh dear. Had the two of them not realized it yet? Or perhaps these so called “fights” were just a front. Or maybe Kili was just being his immature self, pulling Legolas’ metaphorical pig tails.

He woke a second time that night, this time to a Dwarven battle cry that sounded suspiciously like Kili.

#

_Thorin,_

_I think Legolas is Kili’s One._

_Bilbo_

#

Kili covered his head with his hood, blond tresses hidden in his tunic. A golden strand could be seen around his neck.

“At least he didn’t cut it,” Bofur assured him. Dwalin harrumphed.

“At least I’m not the only one anymore.”

“I couldn’t find any dye,” he said. “Bilbo hid it, I’m sure of it.”

Bilbo grinned at him. “You’re not the only one,” he said as Legolas stormed by. His hair was bright pink and scowling. Bilbo grinned. “It could be worse,” he said. “I wanted to give you a Mohawk, but I wasn’t sure I could do it, but at least this is worth it.”

Legolas huffed and grabbed his cloak, trying to hide his hair as much as Kili was, except the other Elves they’d be travelling with kept pulling the hood down and laughing.

To be fair, they did the same to Kili. The teasing lasted until they arrived at the forest borders.

Men were collecting payment from Elves and thanking them for their patronage.

“Ferrymen,” Nori told Bilbo as Kili spoke to them. An Elf pulled his hood down again and laughed. The men seemed confused until they saw Legolas’ new hair color. “They’ll take us to the docks at Dale. Of course, it’ll cost more with the ponies.”

“That’s expected, I suppose,” Bilbo said, petting Berry’s neck. “Goodness, we’re really so close…”

“Aye,” Dwalin said. He and Bilbo led the ponies to the boat. “We’ll be in Erebor tomorrow at this rate. Mahal, it’ll be good to be home.”

Bilbo agreed. The trip to Dale was mostly silent. Kili sulked, keeping his head low and avoiding eye contact with the men. It was a foggy day on the lake, but they ferrymen navigated the waters as smoothly as Bard had done two years ago. The ferryman greeted his associates as they passed through Laketown. They made it to the Dale’s docks by mid-afternoon and were led to the King’s Halls in time for dinner.

All in all, it wasn’t a very adventurous journey over the lake. But getting off it, that was interesting. And interesting meant Ori pushing through the crowd to greet Dwalin with a kiss. Nori rolled his eyes and searched the crowd for Dori.

Bofur grabbed his cloak. “Leave them be,” he said as Ori laughed at Dwalin’s beard and made him promise to put off changing it back until he drew it.

In color.

“I’m surprised Dori hasn’t already allowed them to court,” he said once they had arrived at Bard’s house. Kili looked at him. “I mean, sure, it’s a strange combination, but they seem to work well for each other.”

“Aye, they’re each other’s Ones, all right,” Kili said. “Dori’s just a traditionalist. He’d not really get in Ori’s way in being with Dwalin. He’ll let Dwalin court Ori once he’s given him enough grief.”

“He didn’t do that to Bofur, though.”

“No,” Kili said. “He likes Bofur, even if he is a bit more uncouth than he’d like him to be. Dwalin, on the other hand, is a few years older than Ori, even if Ori is an adult, and Dori is more a parent to Ori than anyone else was, so he worries. It happens.”

“Huh.”

“I mean, everyone thinks my One is an Elf—which is likely true—but I’ve yet to find him or her.”

“Yeah, I think you have. You’ve just not realized it yet.”

“I’ve _not_.”

“You have,” Bilbo said. Kili huffed.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, taking a bite out of a bread roll while Bard spoke with Bofur about making a new toy to sell in Dale. His daughter, it seemed, loved Bofur’s toys.

“Legolas.”

Kili glared at him. “If that was the case, then you and Thorin—”

“Not the same.”

“It is!”

“Thorin and I are just good friends,” Bilbo said.

“And Legolas and I hate each other’s guts.”

Bilbo shrugged and pulled Kili’s hood down again. He groaned as Bard started to laugh.

“Nice hair, your highness,” he said.

“You’re next!”

“I’ll lock my doors tonight, then,” Bard said, raising his glass to him. “You should keep it. Blond suits you more than it does your brother.” Kili glared at him and pulled his hood back up.


	10. Chapter 10

While several places in Erebor were still roped off, safe passages had been marked and Bofur assured Bilbo that the mountain was slowly becoming inhabitable again. Work wise, Erebor was prosperous. Hardly anyone was unemployed due to how much work was required to be done.

The guards watched them curiously, unsure why their captain refused to show his face.

They were lead to the throne room and no sooner had they been announced was Thorin striding toward them. “What is the meaning of this!” he shouted, waving the small sheet of parchment in Bilbo’s face.

“I thought that was obvious, your majesty,” Bilbo said, mouth tugged into a smile.

“Are you _trying_ to murder me, Hobbit?! Are you actually an assassin?! Have you changed professions since we last met?! You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“No, I’m quite sure that was the amount of beef you’ve been scarfing down lately,” Balin said, joining them. Thorin ignored him and glared at Bilbo, who smirked.

“Oh, come on, what was I supposed to conclude? They go at each other like a pair of fauntlings pulling at each other’s hair when they don’t get any attention! And fauntlings are more mature, even then.”

“My dearest nephew would never consort with the son of that pansy, tree-shagging, treacherous, foul blond oaf—Kili what the hell happened to your hair?”

“You just now noticed?” Kili asked. “Ask Bilbo.”

Thorin hummed. He patted Kili’s shoulder. “I’m sure you deserved it.”

“I did not!”

“Kili, son of my sister,” Thorin said, clapping Kili’s shoulders and giving him a firm, fatherly shake. “You always deserve it.”

“Yeah, he does,” Ori mumbled. Bofur and Nori snorted and Thorin rolled his eyes.

“Go on, I expect your hair to be back to normal by—”

“NO!” Dwalin shouted. Thorin turned to him and promptly laughed at the orange tufts in his beard. “He’s keeping it at least three months or so! I’ve had to, and so does Kili.” Kili bolted for the door. Dwalin bellowed in Khuzdul, rushing after him.

“He should keep it,” Thorin choked out. Ori sighed.

“Just long enough for me to draw it. After that, it’s going back to normal,” he said. “It’d be a little awkward bringing him to Dori with his beard that color.”

“What if it makes him change his mind?” Bilbo asked.

“It won’t,” Ori said. “Trust me. It _won’t_. If anything, he’ll laugh and we’ll be just _a little tiny bit_ closer to being able to court officially.”

Thorin hummed. “I see your point. It’d be a little difficult to take him seriously with a bead _that_ color.” He turned to Bilbo. “I’ve another meeting to get to, but your new house is ready, Master Baggins, dinner is at seven, but I trust you’ll be offer to the kitchens for your tenth meal?”

“Ten?! I’ll have you know, Master Oakenshield…”

“I jest! Calm yourself, my friend.”

“Thorin,” Balin said, “The council’s waiting.” Thorin sobered and took a breath.

“I’ll see you at dinner, Master Baggins.”

“It’s seven at _most_ , Thorin. Ten meals…we aren’t _gluttonous_!” Bilbo snapped. Thorin ignored him, following Balin into another chamber.

“Come on, Bilbo,” Nori said. “We’ll show you your room and maybe get to the kitchen to eat for a bit, aye?” Bilbo nodded and followed Bofur and Nori out of the throne room and down a far more elaborate hallway. Servants ran in and out of the “house” with Bilbo’s things, some waiting to hear what he wanted them to do with his things.

“What was that about?” Bofur asked. “Thorin usually calls you by your first name, but today it was all ‘Master Baggins’ this and ‘Master Baggins’ that—”

“I’m not sure,” Bilbo said, sending the servants away and assuring them he didn’t need help setting up the place to his liking. “He didn’t seem aloof except for that.”

“Aye, but he teased you plenty, but still: why go back to ‘Master Baggins’?”

“I don’t _know_ , Bofur,” Bilbo said. “We were in the throne room.”

“But—”

Nori covered his mouth. “Just drop it, love. We’ll get answers sooner or later. By the way, Bilbo.”

“Yes?”

“We don’t celebrate the same festivals as Elves do, but we do have a celebration similar to the one Thranduil invited you to if you’re interested in going to that instead. It’s in a couple weeks on the first day of spring honoring the wedding of Mahal and his Bride.”

Bilbo hummed. “I’ll think on it,” he said. “But thank you for letting me know.”

“All right, we’ll let you settle in, then. If you need anything, just ask any of the servants,” Nori said lowering his hand from Bofur’s mouth and pulled him out of the apartment. “See you at dinner!” The door closed behind them, allowing Bilbo to finally look around.

His things were in a pile in the middle of the room. Okay, _pile_ might be too strong a word. Not everything was stacked on top of one another. He left his belongings there for now as he explored his new apartment in the mountain.

 _Now,_ Bilbo thought, _what do I have here?_

He identified the room he stood in now as the parlor. Save for his things in the middle of the room, the hearth built and already lit into the wall with a stone mantle above it and the shuttered windows high above him—which Bilbo quickly opened with the aid of a hooked pole he found resting against the wall beside the fireplace—the parlor was terribly bare.

A door to his left lead to a kitchen complete with a table with chairs and counters. He found a walk in pantry in need of filling. Bilbo grinned to himself. Tired though he was, at least he’d be able to get to the market and make his own meals. He did love Bombur’s cooking, but he needed to make his own meals once in a while. The windows here were also shuttered but more easily in his reach. There was also a sink and water tap under the window. At least Dwarves were sensible in this way, unlike men who still used such primitive outhouses and the like depending on where one went. There was a smaller hearth in the kitchen with an oven built over it.

He left the kitchen and to the door on the opposite side of the parlor, thinking of the list of things he’d need for that once everything was set to his liking. This room was a guest’s bathroom with a functioning toilet and sink with a large mirror to boot. Another window, without a shutter, and quite high to allow for privacy, let in barely enough light. Bilbo huffed, looking at himself in the mirror. He’d lost weight again, now that he could see himself clearly. Well, settling down in the mountain permanently should take care of that.

He left the room and approached the staircase, nearly skipping up the steps to an empty hallway and opening nearly every door he found. The first door he opened revealed another bathroom, larger, with a tub, but otherwise quite similar to the one downstairs. The second was perhaps supposed to be a bedroom or a study. Bilbo thought study. It was rather unlikely he’d need more than one bedroom in the mountain. The third room was the bedroom with a conjoined bathroom.

The floor in the bedroom was carpeted and it bore a four poster bed pushed against the wall. A third hearth needed to be lit, and he’d need to get started on making the balcony into a garden if he could, but otherwise…

 _Time to get to work,_ he thought, stretching his arms over his head.

#

“Are you certain it’d be all right for me to go?” Bilbo asked Bofur. “To the celebration Nori told me about. I mean, I’d love to go. It’s similar to one that Hobbits celebrate on the last day of summer, but wouldn’t some others take offense to my being there?”

“Like who? Don’t pay any attention to Dwarves who tell you that you don’t belong here, Bilbo. They wouldn’t know for who you are if they ran smack dad into you. If you want to go, then go. No one’s going to care if you’re there.”

“Isn’t it reserved for couples?”

Bofur snorted. “Hardly,” he said, “It may be in celebration of a married couple, but it’s meant to celebrate all kinds of love. Friends and families attend it together most of the time.” He opened a door to the dining hall. “You’ll be fine going with just the company.”

“BILBO BAGGINS!!!” Bilbo hadn’t time to react properly save for a tiny squeak when Gloin pulled him into a tight embrace, laughing. “About bloody time you got your arse back here!”

“Good to see you too, Gloin,” Bilbo said as he was half-dragged, half-steered to the table to stand before a pair of Dwarves he hadn’t met before, but whose images he knew nearly by memory.

“My wife, Valla,” Gloin said. Bilbo bowed.

“It is an honor, Madam,” he said, kissing her hand. “Your husband spoke of you often.”

“Nearly as often as our son, I’m sure,” she said as Bilbo straightened. “He made you seem smaller and fussier, I’ll admit, Master Baggins.”

“Admittedly, Madam, they’ve squeezed the fussiness out of me two years ago.”

“We’ve corrupted the hobbit!” Bofur cheered. Bilbo wanted to glare at him for that. He wanted to be angry, but all he could do was sigh and hide his face in his hands, wondering if green hair would suit Bofur too much.

It would.

It really, truly would. Maybe if it was sickly green…

 _Oh forget it,_ Bilbo thought. _I’m done. I give up. I’m stuck here. I best get used to it._ “I wouldn’t say corrupted as more loosened up,” Bilbo corrected him with a shrug. Valla beckoned to the tween trying to sneak away.

“Gimli!” Gloin snapped. “Get over here and introduce yourself like a proper Dwarrow, or so help me.”

“Fine, Da, I’m coming,” Gimli said, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

 _Moody tweenagers_ , Bilbo thought. _Why is this not surprising?_ He smiled at Gimli and clasped hands with him. “Good to finally meet you, Gimli.”

He shrugged. Gloin hid his face in his hand, shaking his head. As much as he loved his son, even Gloin seemed to get exasperated with tweens. Bilbo couldn’t blame him. Drogo was a hellion at this age and just as sullen and moody as Gimli acted now.

Bilbo went around the room, reacquainting with old friends, introducing himself to their families if he hadn’t met them yet, and waiting for the royal family to make an entrance. But everything seemed to go to hell when the silenced at the loud bellow outside the halls.

The doors swung open and banged against the wall as Thorin slid across the floor. A woman in a red gown lined in black fur stormed inside, brandishing an ax. Thorin held Orcrist in his hand and swung out of the way, snarling in Khuzdul at her. She snarled back and he blocked her swing.

“Let me guess,” Bilbo asked, leaning toward Dori. “Lady Dis?”

“The same,” Dori sighed. “Don’t worry about this. It’s normal. Somewhat.”

“They don’t get along very well, do they?”

“Oh the king and his sister get along wonderfully. Likely, Thorin did something he shouldn’t.”

“Such as?”

“How should I know? You’ll have to ask Balin.”

“I’ll do that.”

“Dis! _Ikhuzh_!” Thorin shouted, blocking her ax again. “Woman, are you mad?!”

Bilbo shook his head. “I’m not getting between this.”

Dori patted his shoulder. “That would be wise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Khuzdul~
> 
> Ikhuzh=stop


	11. Chapter 11

It didn’t take too long for Kili and Fili to step between their mother and uncle. Fili eased the ax from her hand as Kili whispered to her quietly. Thorin sheathed Orcrist and sat down. Bilbo approached him. Thorin looked up at him, wiping his brow with one of the cloth napkins.

“Quite the entrance, your majesty,” Bilbo said, grinning. “Do you make a habit of it?”

“By Mahal, no,” Thorin chuckled. “Dis is angry at me as I had to go to a council meeting instead of showing you around. She thinks I’ve been a poor host.”

“Well, I wouldn’t want you to stop kinging for me. Thank you, by the way, for the house. I’d say it’s a bit much, but I don’t think my things would fit otherwise.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you like it. And _kinging_?” He arched a brow at Bilbo and smirked. “Master Baggins, you’re as eloquent as ever.”

“Always have been. Give me a few months. I’ll have Erebor in my pocket.”

Thorin laughed. “That I don’t doubt!”

“You could just get married,” Fili said. “Either way, Bilbo’s likely to take the throne anyway.”

Bilbo groaned and hid his face in his hands. Thorin glowered at them. “I have told you to keep your noses out of it!”

“How many times am I going to tell them we’re just friends?”

“I’ve been trying to tell them that for two years. I gave up after six months of it.”

“You’re compatibility is no one’s fault but your own,” Dis said as she was finally pacified to sit down. “Bilbo, it is an honor to meet you at last!”

“Same, my lady,” Bilbo said, kissing her hand. “I was just telling Thorin about your entrance.” Dis laughed. “Is it more common than I am led to believe?”

“Only when I’m particularly incensed,” Dis said, shrugging.

Thorin choked on his ale. “That can only mean one thing and it’s more than I need to know.”

“I will skewer you,” Dis sneered.

“See? Thank god I prefer blokes. I don’t know how anyone could stomach being with a woman. You’d have to have stones of mithril to deal with them.”

“Thank you, your majesty,” Gloin said. Bombur chuckled behind his hand.

“Oh, so my late husband was more a man than you?” Dis jibed.

“Having balls of mithril does not a man make,” Thorin retorted weakly. Bilbo patted his arm.

“I’m sure it doesn’t,” Dis muttered.

“I know from personal experience that yours are _not_ , Gloin!” Oin bellowed, earning a few hearty laughs around the table.

Bilbo laughed hard enough to squeeze out a few tears and make his cheeks hurt. Dis shook her head. “When you chuckleheads have your wits about you again, perhaps you could use the time to eat,” she muttered. Thorin threw a bread roll at her. “Don’t.”

“What’re you going to do about it?” he replied snidely.

Bilbo shook his head. “By the green lady, you’re more immature than your nephews!”

Thorin gaped at him in abject horror, eyes almost comically wide. “I am not!”

“You just threw a bread roll at your sister.”

“ _Little sister_. At best I’ll annoy the bloody abyss out of her and chase away any suitors other times. Besides, she doesn’t care.”

“She is right here,” Dis snapped. “And I think _one_ suitor got past your defenses and managed to give you nephews, if I recall.”

“I try to remain unaware of _how_ you got pregnant in the first place, thank you,” Thorin muttered.

Bilbo shook his head. Life in Erebor would be rather interesting if this is what he’d be dealing with. Besides, it wasn’t completely unheard of. He’ had dealt with squabbling siblings before.

He could certainly deal with them again.

#

“I hope you find Erebor to your liking,” Dis said as she walked with Bilbo back to his house, Fili and Kili behind her. “I can’t say _everything_ is as it used to be, but we’re growing and the mountain is being repaired quite quickly, I suppose.”

“Which is good to hear,” Bilbo said. “It was in shambles when I was here last. I wasn’t sure how much to expect done when I returned. Has the library been repaired to? Ori mentioned working there.”

“Yes! The library has sections under construction, much to the scribes’ despair as the noise tends to grate them, but otherwise it’s one of the most intact places in the mountain.”

“Wonderful! I’ll see Ori as soon as I’m settled in, then. I can’t really do nothing while I’m here. A library would be perfect!”

“Depends on if you mind the noise,” Fili mumbled.

“Well, it’s either that or figure out a way to grow a vegetable garden big enough to sustain a mountain-full of Dwarves,” Bilbo said, smirking at them.

Dis laughed, but her sons wrinkled their noses. Bilbo looked at Dis again. “Speaking of which, I would like to build a garden on my new balcony, too. It’s spring, so it’s a little late to do any planting, but I can get a start on it at least.”

“We can arrange for you to go to Dale with a guard,” Dis said. “There should be someone there who’d be able to help you. I’m afraid Dwarves are useless when it comes to growing things.”

“That I know. Talk to them about stone and gems and they know exactly what you’re talking about. But when it comes to things that live and grow, things that have a life cycle, that’s another matter entirely.”

Dis hummed. “Well, when you’re garden is ready, I would like to see it. Perhaps I or one of my kin could make you some tools that would be of use to you.”

Bilbo waved it off. “I appreciate the offer, but I already have gardening tools. Thank you, though. If they break, I’ll certainly keep it in mind.”

“Have you been told of the _Meragel Hôfukaz_?”

Bilbo furrowed his brow. “I don’t think so. At least not by that name. Bofur mentioned a festival honoring your god’s marriage to Yavanna that would be in a couple weeks from now.”

“That’s the one.”

“I’d like to go. And I was told it wasn’t a private affair or limited to only couples.”

“Of course not,” Dis said. “Many who attend _are_ lovers, but you’ll see that some Dwarves are married to Men, very rarely will you see an Elf at the festival, but sometimes an Elf will be a Dwarf’s One.”

She glanced at Kili, who crossed his arms and looked at his feet.

“And when that is the case, no one contests it. Love is something to cherish. Sometimes the person we are meant to be with is the last we expect.” She winked at Bilbo, who sighed.

“Dis, please, if you are referring to your brother and me, I assure you we’re just friends. There’s nothing romantic about our relationship.”

“Funny how everyone sees it but you two. Why do you think nothing will come of your relationship? You and Thorin get along wonderfully.”

“Because we’re comrades! I’ve saved his life, he’s saved mine…there’s nothing romantic about it. That’s what friends do. Besides, Thorin’s a king and I’m nothing spectacularly special. I’m just _me_. Always have been and I don’t see the point of entertaining thoughts about being the king’s lover or whatever it is a king’s husband would be—”

“Prince Consort,” Kili answered.

“Yes. That. I’m content to be a friend and a voice of reason if need be.”

“Good, he’ll need that. But a friend and a voice of reason can also be a lover. If you and Thorin are in fact each other’s other half, you have my full support. If not, it changes nothing. You’re still a dear friend of his and because you are his friend and my sons’ friend, you are also mine.”

Bilbo grinned at her. “Thank you, my lady.”

“You’re quite welcome, Master Baggins.” They stopped outside his new house. “Have a good night, Bilbo. We’ll see you in the morning.”

“Good night, Dis. And you two as well, lads.”

“Good night, Bilbo!” Kili called as Fili waved.

#

Once the door closed, Dis crossed her arms. “It’s worse than I thought it would be.”

“I told you!” Kili said. “It’s not just Thorin. They _both_ are in denial.”

“Well what would you like me to do about it?” Dis asked. “Your uncle’s thick and I think our Hobbit’s merely in denial. He’s certainly smart enough. If we can just _pinpoint_ the cause of that denial—”

“Arkenstone,” both brothers said.

Dis nodded. “That would do it,” she said. “I can see _that_ stone causing trouble.” She led them back to the palace, arms locked around hers.

“Well, Thorin did try to kill him over it, Mum,” Kili said. “That’s not something one easily gets over.”

“Not that they didn’t try,” Fili said. “What I heard was that Thorin apologized and offered Bilbo his sword to do as he liked. Bilbo could’ve taken his hair or his life, but he didn’t. He chose to forgive Thorin.”

“Exactly!” Dis said. “He chose to forgive. But trust is harder to gain back and easily broken. They may be friends again, but I think we need to get them back into a place where they can trust each other again and trust each other enough to realize their attraction. Now that he’s back I _won’t_ watch my brother realize he _does_ love Bilbo only to refuse to court him due to his drama!”

“Drama?” Kili asked.

“You know what I mean. When your uncle figures out he _is_ in love with Bilbo, he’ll just pine after him and whine about how unworthy he is. Personally, I’d rather be spared that.” The brothers nodded. They’d rather not see that, either. The sad thing was all three of them could see it too. Their uncle was maddeningly dramatic at the worst of times.

 “So, operation: love boat?” Kili asked. Fili groaned and Dis laughed, patting Kili’s hand.

“Oh, my wolf, don’t ever change!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Khuzdul~
> 
> Meragel Hôfukaz=the feast (of all feasts) of joy origins


	12. Chapter 12

Ribbon streamers and paper lanterns decorated the mountain, both inside and out.

Musicians played merry and romantic tunes while couples danced, some were parents, leading their young. Fili and Kili could be found competing at different booths to win things.

Bilbo caught Kili giving one of his bigger earnings—from a ball toss—to a Dwarfling who looked a little bit lost.

Bofur was running one of the booths, offering his own wares as prizes. The first prize was a large—well, not _large_ , but big enough to need more than one person to carry—model of Smaug.

He caught Gloin with his wife and son. Gimli was trying to out-drink Dwalin, but Oin merely shook his head, muttering about “lightweights.”

Other than that, he’d not seen most of the company, though he knew they were here.

“Enjoying yourself, Master Baggins?”

Bilbo looked at Thorin and smiled. “Quite,” he said. “Yourself?”

Thorin shrugged sitting beside him. “It’s a bit cold for my liking, but that’s no different from any other times we’ve celebrated _Meragel Hôfukaz_.”

“You’ll have to teach me the other holidays you celebrate. Other than this and Durin’s Day, I’m woefully ignorant.”

“You’re a quick learner,” Thorin said. “You won’t be ignorant for long. Give it a month, you may know Khzudul conversationally.”

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to learn.”

“You aren’t. But that doesn’t mean you won’t pick anything up. You already know a few words thanks to Bifur.”

Bilbo shrugged and raised his mug to his lips again. “Kili seems good with children.”

“If his One is female, he’ll make a wonderful father.”

“Does that matter?”

“For the royal family, it usually does. Heirs, you know. But once you have at least one, you’re set. I’ve two. My father had three—Dis was counted as an heir of Durin. Some wanted to see her on the throne. Our grandfather wouldn’t stand for it. He was…a traditionalist.”

Bilbo frowned.

“It meant nothing, he just adhered to the laws that the fist born took the throne. Not the third. Besides, Fili is my heir and he is Dis’ son, so…It’s not like any of us cared who took the throne. Sometimes I think Dis has a better head for politics than I. Many call my regime a bit…militaristic. Thankfully she and Balin help me balance that out. As for Fili…well…”

“He’s young.” Bilbo said. “And as much as a silly fool he still acts—exhibit A being to your right.”

Thorin turned around to see both nephews and Gimli making themselves dizzy, heads pressed to a poles and spinning around. Thorin chuckled.

“Well, they grew up in a more stable environment than I did. Let them have fun while they can. It’s only an inconvenience on dangerous quests.”

Bilbo frowned. “You never had fun?”

“I was thrust into a role equal to kingship when I was much younger than they are now. My grandfather died in Azanulbizar and then my father disappeared a few years later. And when they were around, I had to help take care of my siblings. My mother had died when Smaug came, so…” he swallowed.

Bilbo placed his hand on his arm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” Thorin assured him.

Bilbo tilted his head to the side. He stood. “Perhaps, your majesty would care to dance?”

Thorin arched a brow. “Not worried about your toes?”

“Of course I am, but I trust you not to trample them. If you do I’ll bite.”

Thorin blinked.

Bilbo blushed. “I…I mean…I should just shut up. You know what I mean.”

“Strangely I do,” Thorin said. “Don’t worry, Master Baggins, your toes are in safe hands.”

Thorin led him to the dance floor and they stood there, staring at each other.

Dis cleared her throat, dancing with Balin. “Perhaps you might want to put your hands on Bilbo’s hips, Brother? I promise you’ll still have fingers.”

Thorin blushed, glaring at her and placed his hands on Bilbo’s waist, with still quite a distance between them.

Someone bumped into Bilbo’s back, pushing him closer to Thorin’s chest. Bilbo stared at The gold thread sewn into the blue tunic Thorin wore.

Slowly Thorin began to sway.

“Perhaps this was a bad idea?” Bilbo asked.

“Perhaps, but well, what are friends supposed to do but embarrass each other. Besides, I’m not the one who got bumped by Valla’s butt.”

Bilbo glared at him. “Don’t be an ass, Thorin,” he snapped. “This can only ever get more awkward.”

“Or less,” Thorin said. “Pretend we aren’t being watched.”

“We’re being _watched_?!” Bilbo spun his head around, flustered.

Thorin stopped him, grabbing his chin.

Bilbo squeaked. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to help you relax. Is it working?”

“Not really.”

Thorin let go and Bilbo rubbed his chin. “Just don’t look at them,” he suggested. “It’s not like you’re doing anything ridiculously embarrassing. There’s much worse that could happen.”

“Well I see you got comfortable easily. I don’t normally dance with people,” Bilbo mumbled, pouting.

“Then why did you ask me to dance with you?” Thorin asked, smirking at him. Bilbo blushed and turned his pout into a grimace.

“I don’t…” he huffed. “It’s just…too many of our friends seem to think we’re meant to be together.”

“Friends dance with each other all the time, Bilbo. It means nothing. That your blushing so much suggests something about Hobbit culture, I suppose?”

“No…just…is it just me or have we just…gotten into this rut where we don’t know where either of us stands. We managed to get along just fine when we were exchanging letters. It shouldn’t have changed now that we’re face to face.”

“I agree. We’ll figure it out, though. I promise you that.”

“How?”

“Not a clue,” Thorin admitted. “But we will.”

Bilbo hummed, gripping Thorin’s arms a little tighter and stared at their feet. “I think these awkward feelings are just _their_ doing, you know? They want us to get together…”

“If it happens, then it will happen in its own course. Don’t let the others sway you. I don’t.”

“Believe me, I’m trying to,” Bilbo sighed.

The song ended and they pulled apart.

“I’m going to get an ale. Want one?”

“No thanks. I’m going to cut in and dance with my sister. Maybe step on a couple of her toes,” Thorin said, winking at Bilbo, who shook his head.

“Behave yourself.”

“I always do,” Thorin said.

“Now _that_ I’d like to see!” Bilbo teased, smirking at him.

Thorin signed something rude and disappeared in the crowd. Bilbo shook his head and decided another ale was required.

#

“My lady,” a servant said, bowing to a woman.

Her hair and beard was gold like sunlight and her eyes a vibrant green like emeralds. She looked at him from under her nose, mouth turned into a frown.

“It is time to go.”

The woman stood, green gown sweeping the ground. “I do not see what point there is in going to Erebor. The country is still unstable.”

“His majesty has been quite clear that even in its _unstable_ state, it continues to have wealth beyond imagining. Surely, my lady, you understand the importance of this alliance.”

She hummed and followed him at a leisurely pace.

“Funny how it is that once they regain their wealth and status, the Durin clan is worthy of our time.”

The servant shrugged. “Lady Solveig, I’m sure, whatever may happen, you will bring aid not only to the Orocani, but also to Erebor.”

Solveig smirked. “I’d sooner uproot the lot. Especially _her_ , but…”

The servant swallowed. He heard of the Shield Queen of Durin’s Folk. He might find his lady a bit cumbersome, but even then, he’d not wish her to be pitted against Dis daughter of Thrain.

Still, the line of Durin was close to breaking. The madness that ran through their blood almost dry.

Their downfall was a long time coming and if anyone could destroy Durin’s line, the servant hoped it would end at the hands of his lady.

Korgan, Solveig’s brother met her at the stables.

“Swift journey, Namad,” he said, handing her a jeweled dagger. “Bring me their hearts if you succeed.”

“I will,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Farewell, Nadadith.”

She climbed into a carriage, her servant with her, and they left just as the sun began to rise.


	13. Chapter 13

“Eventually I’ll have to learn this blasted language of yours,” Bilbo said, carrying a stack of books, tottering under the weight. “It’s dreadfully dull if you can’t read them.”

“We do have Westron selections,” Ori said, walking a little more steadily though his stack was just as large as Bilbo’s. “And a smaller selection in Sindarin, but hardly anyone reads those.”

“Well, that would be the xenophobia talking.”

“We aren’t xenophobic. We like Hobbits and Men well enough. It’s just Elves—”

“That _is_ xenophobia, Ori. Does anyone _really_ remember the reason behind it?”

“Yes. Many. And it never ends.”

“Well, we should find out how to make it end because, honestly, it’s ridiculous. This back and forth thing between your people and Thranduil’s needs to stop.” He smirked. “And I know just how to do it.”

“And may I ask,” Ori said, setting the books down before helping Bilbo with his, “just exactly how you plan to do that?”

“Legolas and Kili,” Bilbo said. Ori’s eyes widened. “For goodness sakes, am I the only one here who sees it? They are at each other’s throats so much—”

“So are you and Thorin.”

“Shush.”

“But Bilbo—”

“No.”

“But—”

“Ori, shut it.” The doors opened with a bang and Ori snarled, marching over to give the intruder a lecture about being quiet in the library. Bilbo followed, hoping to either reign Ori in or perhaps have a good laugh. He wasn’t sure which.

“Balin,” Ori hissed. “You of all people ought to know how to act in a library!”

“Yes. Sorry. In a hurry. Thorin’s passed out again—”

“Again?!” Bilbo squeaked.

“Yes, he forgets he needs to eat, the fool. He thinks he doesn’t have any time for it! I swear to Mahal, if he doesn’t kill himself from his lack of care, I’ll strangle him—”

“Give me a bit,” Bilbo said. “Ori, I’m sorry, but I’ve something to do.”

“Bombur’s already making him something,” Balin said.

“Nope, not good enough. Regular meals are important for everyone and the king cannot just neglect his own health and he won’t on my watch.” Bilbo said. He winked. “Leave it to me. I’ll figure out a schedule for him that will keep him from passing out again.”

“Are you sure? I tried that already and he ignores it.

“He listened to me when it came to the Elves, I’m sure he’ll listen again,” Bilbo said. Balin hummed. He knew it was true. Thorin did value Bilbo’s opinion greatly and if Bilbo told him to implement a schedule that would be more efficient than his random dawn to dusk work schedule with breaks…

Balin and Ori followed Bilbo to the throne room. Thorin was hunched over an empty table, save for the papers strewn about.

“So,” Bilbo said, sliding into a seat beside him. “You forget that you are a mortal even if you are a king and drive yourself to exhaustion?”

“Shut it.”

“No, I don’t think I will. I swear, Thorin, I though you jumping in front of an Orc set on killing you was stupid, but this takes cake. Do you sleep?”

“Yes.”

“For how long?”

“Four, maybe five hours.”

“Yeah. No. That’s not going to cut it.”

“Balin put you up to this.”

“He told me, but I put myself up to this. Thorin you can’t just work yourself to exhaustion. You’ll kill yourself at this rate and as much as we love Fili, he’s not ready for this responsibility.”

“If I die, Dis can have it.”

Bilbo resisted the urge to smack Thorin on the back of his head. He sighed. “Breakfast is at seven tomorrow. You _will_ be there.”

“But—”

“You. Will. Be there. And I will be in your room at ten to make sure you _go_ to sleep at a feasible time.”

Thorin looked up, glaring at Bilbo. “You’re giving me a bed time?”

“Someone has to.”

“I’m not a child!”

“No, but you need eight full hours of sleep in order to function, Thorin. So bed at ten, up at six, and breakfast at seven. I’ll let you know that full schedule of yours tomorrow morning.”

“Do I have a choice in this?”

“No,” Bilbo said. The doors opened and Bombur entered, carting a tray of food. Bilbo grinned. “I’ll speak to you later about bringing sanity back into his life.”

“I’m fine,” Thorin muttered, but was ignored.

“Really?” Bombur asked. “By sanity do you mean…”

“Regular meals, proper sleep, normal work hours, and tea. That’s what I’m thinking.”

“I don’t need all that!” Thorin snapped. Bilbo grabbed Thorin's tunic.

“I will smack you,” he hissed. “Don’t doubt that, Master Oakenshield.”

“Yeah, we learned early on that it is not wise to anger a Hobbit,” Bombur reminded him. “Besides, that’s four meals a day. Sounds wonderful.”

“Screw you all to Mordor and back,” Thorin growled. “Does my being king even matter?”

“It matters. We’re doing this because we love you,” Bilbo promised, smirking at him and patting his shoulder. “Enjoy your lunch. It’ll be the last one you have at three o’clock.” He patted Thorin’s shoulder and left. Balin followed after him. “Shall we get to work on that schedule?”

“Indeed. And I kind of want to be there when you make sure he goes to bed on time.”

“I don’t know what to expect from that,” Bilbo said. “But as our king’s an overgrown child anyway…”

“Oh, I know. Now about that schedule…”

“You want to help?” Bilbo asked.

“I do.”

“Good, I’ll need it.”

Balin gave him a brief overview and Bilbo clucked his tongue.

Perhaps when they were poor, a dawn to dusk work day was necessary, but now? No. Thorin had plenty of money to work with, more responsibility than just his family, and was all but driving himself into an early grave.

If anyone told Bilbo that Thorin wasn’t stressed, he’d smack them. Thorin was always stressed. The idiot didn’t know how to relax to save his life.

Bilbo was going to change that.

#

 

> _6 Am: Rise, clean, dress_
> 
> _7 AM: breakfast_
> 
> _8 AM: training_
> 
> _9 AM: commons_
> 
> _12 AM: lunch_
> 
> _1 PM: meetings_
> 
> _4 PM: tea_
> 
> _5 PM: documents_
> 
> _8 PM: Dinner_
> 
> _10 PM: bed_

Thorin glared at the schedule in front of him as he munched on toast. “Is all this _really_ necessary, Bilbo?”

“Hey, you get time to train, you work, and you eat,” Bilbo said, waving a sausage link at him. “And if you finish any of these early, then you have free time. Saturdays, though, you can do whatever you like.”

“What?” Thorin snapped.

“Yes. You get a day off barring emergencies. Deal with it.”

“I’m still coming to terms with having a _bed time_ like a Dwarfling.”

“Get used to it. Be glad I didn’t put a limit on how much work you get done in a day. The only issue I find with it is how much you’re eating. It doesn’t seem like there’s enough meals.”

“Bilbo I don’t eat seven times a day.”

“I suppose that’s true. Still, this is fun. I should do it for myself…maybe. I still need to figure out that garden. I’ve not had a chance to go back to Dale yet to talk about it with someone…”

“You will,” Thorin said, picking up a coffee mug. “I’m sure you’ll keep yourself busy somehow. You’ve already integrated yourself at the library.”

“Again, can I learn Khuzdul!” Bilbo whined, leaning on the table and giving Thorin the biggest eyes he could muster. Thorin didn’t look impressed.

“It is not my decision alone and you already are,” Thorin sighed. “You’re far too good at languages for your own good.”

“What if people insult me?”

“They won’t. Even if you don’t know Khuzdul, _we_ do. No one in Erebor in their right mind would treat you as anything less than you are, Bilbo. That, I promise. You are a Dwarf Friend and you will be treated as such.”

Bilbo hummed. “I suppose I’ll just have to trust you before I pick up the language.”

“Yep,” Thorin said. “Would you like some orange juice?”

“I would, thank you.”Thorin handed him a cup and Bilbo took a drink. He spat it out. “That’s not orange juice. He glanced at the cup. “Thorin, did you just prank me?”

“With apple juice? Yes.”

“That was weak.”

“But I got you.”

“That is beside the point. Your nephews had to learn it from somewhere.”

“Oh they did.”

“Is this a challenge, your majesty? Because, if so, I accept,” Bilbo said, downing the apple juice with a glare which Thorin met with a smirk.

“Your move, Master Baggins,” Thorin said, as a guard entered to bring him to the throne room.

“Watch your back,” Bilbo said as Thorin fled.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who were triggered by one of the jokes in this chapter, I am SO sorry. If you've not read it, know that I did change it to be less triggering, but I am DEEPLY sorry for that. It was insensitive and thoughtless to throw that in and that is NEVER what I want to convey.

Thorin entered the council room with Bilbo, his nephews, and Balin behind him—while he valued Bilbo’s opinion, the Hobbit had never asked to be present at a meeting before and that made Thorin suspicious. The nobles rose and bowed to him. He quickly requested that they speak in Westron, for Bilbo’s benefit, and met the glares that were directed at Bilbo with one of his own.

Then he sat down.

On some deflatable cushion.

That made a loud farting noise.

The nobles looked horrified. Balin, embarrassed. Fili and Kili snickered. And Bilbo? Well…he looked like he was trying not to laugh. Thorin reached under him and pulled out the odd balloon shaped thing.

“What is this?”

“One of Bofur’s latest inventions,” Bilbo said, “He’s not sure what to call it yet, but…I figured I help with the first trial.”

Thorin set it on the table. “If it was supposed to make a loud farting noise, then it works perfectly fine.”

“Oh I’m sure,” Bilbo said, trying not to laugh. “But so far the results have been marvelous, don’t you think?”

“I cede this round to you, Master Baggins,” Thorin said, handing the balloon-cushion to him. “And I suggest you watch your back.”

Bilbo’s eyes widened and he looked offended. “I should watch _my_ back? My dear king, this is a prank war. It’s prank or be pranked.” Thorin ignored the groans that echoed around the council. “I suggest you get your head in the game, Sire. I mean, sweetheart, you’ve yet to impress me.”

Fili and Kili applauded.

“Excellent speech, General Baggins!”

“Fili, I wish I brought something to write with. This is golden!”

“I know, Kili.”

Thorin blinked. “Did you just call me _sweetheart_?”

Bilbo shook his head while the princes threw their heads back and laughed. “I give a moving speech about pranking. And of course, the one thing you focus on is that I called you sweetheart. Does that make any sense to you, your majesty? I mean, you are gorgeous and you can be very sweet, but I don’t think of you that way.”

“Yeah, you do,” Fili said.

“You both do,” Kili added.

 “Shut up,” Bilbo and Thorin snapped at them.

“How about this: we’ll admit we’re soul mates or whatever if Kili admits he’s got a crush on Legolas,” Bilbo said.  This was met with groans.

“No!” Thorin said. “Kili, don’t do that to your poor, old uncle. My heart won’t take it!” Bilbo smacked the back of his head. “Ow!” Thorin cried out, rubbing the back of his head and glaring at Bilbo. “Okay, you’re too hyper to be mature right now. You should probably leave. Go frolic in a field or whatever hobbits like to do.”

“You’re a pain in the ass, a sad man with no love life to speak of, and right now I am ashamed of you. Don’t hurt yourself with big words.” He turned to the council. “Have a good afternoon, gentle-Dwarves.” He bowed and went to the door, then gave another bow for Fili’s and Kili’s benefit as they stood and applauded him some more.

He closed the door behind him and went to Bofur’s shop with Bifur. Bofur grinned at him. “Well?”

“He walked right into it,” Bilbo said, laughing. “The look on everyone’s face was priceless! It was beautiful. You should’ve been there!”

“I would’ve been there if I wanted to be, but I’d just fall asleep. Still, I would’ve loved to see it. Anything else?”

“Well, I gave a speech about prank wars and the only thing he focuses on is that I call him sweetheart.”

“Yeah I expect he would, no one ever does. Our king’s not exactly the poster boy for, um, sweetness.”

Bilbo scoffed. “Nonsense. He’s a puppy dog deep down, we all know it. So, what are you going to call this ingenious little thing?” Bilbo asked, handing the cushion back to Bofur.

“Um…for now the working name is ‘tootie-pillow.’” Bilbo looked at the cushion, then back at Bofur. They burst into laughter. Bifur sighed, muttering his doubts about Bilbo’s and Bofur’s maturity under his breath.

#

Three days have passed since Bilbo had pranked Thorin. Three days of wondering what was taking him so long to get back at him.

He reviewed the list of things he’d need for his garden, drumming his fingers on the table. Someone knocked and Bilbo went to open the door. A dam looked at him, carrying the basket of laundry he knew was his own but the items inside it were pink.

“I’m _so_ sorry, my lord,” she said, eyes brimming with tears. And not for the first, time, if the red in and around her eyes were an indicator of anything. “I swear I didn’t mean for this to happen. I don’t know how I could’ve missed it!”

Bilbo led her inside and took the basket for her, offering her tea before having her explain how his shirts managed to turn pink. She handed him a damp, red, silk handkerchief with a Khuzdul rune letter sewn into the fabric with gold thread.

“Miss, this rune here,” he pointed to it. “What is it?”

“It’s the rune equivalent to the letter T, sir.”

Bilbo patted her shoulder and had her finish the tea. “I really am sorry, my lord.”

“You’re not in trouble,” he told her. “I’m sure we can fix this. Okay?”

She nodded. “I’ll get right on it.”

“Thank you.”

Once she finished her tea and left, Bilbo took the red handkerchief and went to Thorin, who was staring down at the documents on his desk. Bilbo tapped his shoulder.  Thorin looked at him, then at the handkerchief in Bilbo’s hand.

“Missing this?” he asked, waving it in front of Thorin’s nose. “It’s _one thing_ when it’s just the two of us, Thorin, but it’s another when you pull someone into the middle of the crossfire. Like the laundress who was so distraught at turning my clothes pink she came to me personally in tears to apologize.”

“Ah. I still got you.”

“Yeah, no more innocent bystanders.”

“I thought you said this was war.”

Bilbo tossed the damp cloth at Thorin’s face and strode to the door. “And I expected better from you, Master Oakenshield. I’ve yet to be impressed. Turning my clothes pink— _ha_! I’d expect that from a fauntling. Use your imagination! Goddess above, was it really you who taught your nephews how to pull a prank or was it their mother?”

“That’s not as insulting as you think it is,” Thorin said, setting the cloth far away from the parchment.

“That’s because it’s not an insult. At least not toward Dis. I wouldn’t want to cross her even if given the opportunity. I’ll see you at dinner.”

#

 _I need to work on my neutral face_ , Bilbo thought as he tried, and failed, to force the grin off his face.

Thorin stormed toward him. His hair was wet and uncombed, he wore only a bathrobe which refused to hide the furry hide on Thorin’s chest or the muscles, for that matter. His eyes flashed dangerously and his jaw was tense from gnashing his teeth. He seized Bilbo’s coat.

He did not, however, lift Bilbo up or shake him.

“Where are they?” Thorin demanded, looming over him.

Bilbo grinned wider, trying to look innocent. “What are you talking about, Thorin?”

“My pants. Small clothes, breeches, trousers, and anything of similar make—where are they? All of my legwear is gone! I know it was you, Bilbo, so you may as well fess up. Where are they?”

“Technically I didn’t do anything to your clothes, Thorin,” Bilbo said. “But they do make excellent flags.” Thorin released him and headed to a window, looking out to see a pair of black breeches blowing in the wind where a flag once flew. He turned to Bilbo, who smirked at him. “See: _that_ is creativity.”

“You…”

“I never said it was me. I just pointed out where they were.” Bilbo bounced on the balls of his feet. “I’m sure you can get pants quickly made for you before you’re expected in the throne room. Or you could try and salvage them, _but_ I don’t think you have the time.”

Thorin shook his head. “I could just take your pants.”

“They won’t fit you. If you’ve not noticed, I’m quite a bit smaller than you are even if I _am_ getting a little rounder about the middle.” Bilbo patted his belly and grinned. “And trust me: it’s about time too. To add, that could get us in a rather compromising position. How would you explain that?”

“I’ll just tell the truth.”

“Right, someone stole all your pants and hung them on flag poles. That will…yeah, they’ll believe that.”

Thorin huffed, crossed his arms, and tapped his foot—it was a very cute but rather hairless foot, Bilbo wondered if they were cold. They likely were. Cute, but very practical. “How compromising are we talking here?”

“Wow, you’re still out of it, aren’t you? Because when I say you taking _my_ pants off could be compromising…are you not getting where I’m going with that.”

“N—oh.” Thorin blushed. “Yeah. Yeah, that could…definitely…be misconstrued.”

“And knowing everyone we know…”

“They’ll just tell us to get a room.”

“Yes. I knew you were smart enough to get that.”

“You know what, screw it. Hand over your trousers.”

Bilbo’s smile died and he sprinted down the hall. Thorin roared, chasing after him. He tackled Bilbo to the ground and gripped at the brown trousers. Bilbo kicked and hit.

“Stop fighting! This is bad enough as it is!”

Bilbo stopped fighting, breathing heavily. Thorin still gripped his pants. Bilbo cleared his throat and took a deep breath. “GUARDS!!!”

“Damn it, Bilbo!” Thorin shouted, letting go of him. Bilbo stuck his tongue out and ran.

A throat cleared behind him. “Thorin, what were you and Bilbo doing?” Dwalin asked.

Thorin stood and pouted angrily. “He stole my pants. Every fucking pair. Just look outside. You’ll understand.” Dwalin did so, then turned back to him, eyebrows arched.

“So you’re naked from the waist down for the day.”

“Unless I get my pants back. I was going to take Bilbo’s as retribution, but…”

“Yeah, I heard. His pants won’t fit you anyway. Go back to your room and get something to eat. I’ll bring you a pair of mine since my pants will actually fit you and we’ll get some servants to get your pants back. Okay?”

Thorin huffed and slouched. “Fine.” He returned to his room. Dwalin shook his head, wondering what had happened to his best friend’s maturity.

Or Bilbo’s for that matter.


	15. Chapter 15

T’was going to be a lovely day in Erebor.

The sun shone outside. Birds tweeted from windowsills and rafters. The scent of clean air drifted inside, keeping the mountain nice and cool. It made Bilbo mumble sleepily as he stretched like a cat in the sun. He opened his eyes and grinned.

At last!

He jumped out of bed and went to the wash room, pausing in front of the mirror. Something was _not right_ and he approached the glass again.

His hair was green.

Now, as far as shades of green go, it wasn’t a bad color. It actually brought out the green in Bilbo’s eyes quite nicely. Still, it was quite the, uh, shock.

Bilbo put his hands on his hips.

“By the green lady, he’s catching on.” That said, he went to take his bath and dress.

At breakfast, Fili stared and Kili nearly choked on his bacon. Dis covered her mouth and her shoulders shook from the attempt to not laugh. And Thorin smirked.

“Green looks good on you.”

“I’ve known that for a long time. Granted, I was not expecting to look so good with green hair.”

“You did have it coming.”

“I did,” Bilbo said, nodding. He sat down. “I will admit that. I’m okay with that.”

Dis cleared her throat. “Would it be too much to ask you two to tone your game down when the Men come to visit next week?” she asked. “I’m quite sure they’d be put off if the find either of you behaving like children.”

Thorin glared at her and Bilbo drummed his fingers against the table. “We’ll try,” Bilbo said, “But no promises.” Thorin rolled his eyes and picked up a scone. He spat it out and Bilbo grinned.

“Never has retribution ever been swifter.”

“You put mayonnaise in a scone?”

Bilbo nodded. “Bombur helped. We’ll be having a casserole for lunch today,” he said. “Best way not to waste food, right?”

“So long as it gets rid of the aftertaste, I’ll be fine,” Thorin said. “Watch your back.”

“I look forward to it,” Bilbo said, setting the scones out of harm’s way.

#

Bilbo stretched, arms lifted toward the sky, and groaned as his joints cracked, leaving him feel looser than a moment ago. His new garden was coming along nicely. He decided to wash up and while he scrubbed the dirt off, he pondered what he’d make for dinner.

Probably a chicken breast marinated in lemon sauce and cilantro. And as a side, he’d make something with the barley and mushrooms that he bought the day before. Bilbo’s mouth watered thinking of it and he wiggled his toes as he shampooed the hair on his feet.

Once clean and in fresh clothes, he headed to the kitchen and opened the pantry to retrieve his things. Bilbo screamed and slammed it shut, heart thumping in his chest. He peeked inside again.

Rats everywhere.

On his jars and in his bags of rice and barley—not moving. Bilbo swung it open and approached one of the rodents. It didn’t flinch or start or anything when he did and he knelt down.

It was a toy. They were all toys.

 _Thorin_.

Bilbo sighed, laughing at himself weakly as he picked up the bag of mushrooms and tossed the stuffed rat nestled in the grains.

#

He tiptoed through Thorin’s room, the stuffed toys held tightly in his hands. Thorin snorted and turned over in his sleep, sending Bilbo into such a fright that he thought he’d been caught, but Thorin just resumed snoring softly. Bilbo sighed and entered Thorn’s bathroom, arranging the toy in such a way that Thorin would see it in the morning. Pity he’d miss it.

Or would he? Bilbo looked around, entertaining the idea of hiding somewhere. He shook his head. There wasn’t anywhere warm or comfortable enough for his liking.

So he arranged the toys just a little more and went on his way. Thorin mumbled something in his sleep and sighed. Bilbo looked back at him briefly. He did look so much less weighed down when he slept and he certainly seemed to be benefitting from it. Still, it was interesting to see Thorin so worry-free. He looked younger in a way.

Bilbo shook his head. _You’re being creepy, Bilbo Baggins. Get your butt back to your room_.

So he did. And at breakfast, Thorin came in a little more disheveled than usual, carrying a large spider toy, a stuffed red dragon—fashioned to look like smaug—and stuffed warg.

Bilbo grinned. “Have a good sleep?”

“I slept fine. It was waking up to finding these monstrosities in my bedroom that nearly killed me!”

“Well, now you know how it felt finding stuffed rats in my pantry.”

Thorin hummed, handing the toys to Fili and Kili. “The men will be here in two days and as much as I’d like to continue our war, we should consider a parley for the time being. Just until Bard leaves.”

“Okay,” Bilbo said. Thorin turned away from him and Bilbo smirked, exchanging glances with Fili and Kili.

#

It was a very majestic scream.

The most kingly scream of all screams.

And Bilbo had to say it took greats skill to march out wearing the pink gown with as much regality as Thorin did. It wouldn’t be so bad if not for the large purple bows in Thorin’s now bright yellow hair, at the waist, sleeves, and hem.

He stormed toward Bilbo gnashing his teeth and lifted him up. “It was enough with the hair! I could handle that! But my clothes again?!”

“In all honesty, the clothes this time were not a part of it. All I meant to do this time was bleach your hair. Someone did the rest.”

“Who?”

Dis approached him and embraced him. “Happy Birthday, Thorin.”

“Happy birthday, Uncle!” Fili and Kili screamed, latching onto him, too. Thorin bowed his head.

“Dis, you lied to me.”

“You walk into it every year.”

“Every year?!” Bilbo shouted, face lit with glee.

“Wait till _her_ birthday,” Thorin said. Dis hugged him tightly.

“You look gorgeous in pink.”

“I hate you.”

“I know.”

“I thought the Men were coming today. You asked us to tone it down till they left!”

“Again, all I did was dye your hair,” Bilbo said.

“I know,” Thorin said, “I was talking to her.”

Dis rolled her eyes. “Meeting with Bard or not, I refuse to put off the annual birthday prank.” She patted his shoulder. “Have fun.”

“Fine, I will suffer, but at dinner…”

“Yes, you’ll have your usual clothes back by then. Besides, Bilbo’s hair’s still green.”

Bilbo shrugged and Thorin sighed, heading toward the hall. Bilbo looked at her. “Could you have chosen an uglier dress?”

“I would have, but he got that _very_ dress special made for me on my birthday. I vowed never to wear it, so I had it refitted for him.”

Bilbo snorted. This was going to be an interesting day.

The look on the Men’s faces were priceless. Bard had choked on the drink offered him, trying not to laugh. His son, however, had no qualms laughing at Thorin as he strode to the throne with as much dignity as he could muster. Dwalin looked like a cat who got the cream seeing him.

“I, uh,” Bard said. “Is there some…occasion, King Thorin?”

“My family enjoys pranking each other on our birthdays,” he said. “And today is my one hundred and ninety-eighth birthday. Ergo, I am…um…obligated to wear the very ball gown I got for my sister’s most recent birthday, which was back in winter.”

Bard blinked, as though having a hard time processing the confession. “I see. I suppose your nephews also had a hand?”

“It would not have been this elaborate if they didn’t, and also Mr. Baggins.”

Bard looked at Bilbo, who grinned and waved. “Is there some sort of…event going on and that is why Mr. Baggins’ hair is _green_?”

“Yes, that would be the best way to describe it,” Bilbo said. Thorin gave a serious nod in agreement. “Don’t worry, King Bard. You and your men are immune.”

“Shall we begin?”

“Actually, it might better if we rescheduled,” Bard said. “I can’t take you seriously right now.”

“Yeah, that is very, very true,” Thorin said. “Balin, please reschedule our meeting for tonight.” Balin nodded, sighing as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Most everything will be back to normal by then.”

“I hope so, because I don’t…yes…well. Till tonight.”

“Tonight.”

The men left, letting the guards lead them from the room. Thorin hid his face in his hands.

“That could’ve been more awkward,” Balin muttered.

“It is not my fault I forgot today was my birthday.”

“You know,” Bilbo said. “It’s a tradition in the Shire to give out gifts to guests on their birthdays.”

“No, Bilbo, I will _not_ be giving out gifts, except perhaps discussing that new trade thing-a-ma-jig Bard wants to discuss.”

“Pity. I could use another knickknack for my hearth. The one I’ve got here is quite a bit bigger than the one I had in Bag End.”

“No, Bilbo.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter of pranks. :) Enjoy

Thorin looked nearly back to normal, except for his now blond hair. Bilbo wasn’t sure what became of the monstrous pink dress, but from the smug grin that Thorin directed at his sister, no one else would be subjected to it. His sister and nephews walked by his side on entering the room. Bard arched a brow.

“Still blond?” he asked, lips quirking upward.

“Hair dye is currently hard to come by,” Thorin said with a shrug. “Besides, Master Baggins would probably feel left out if he was the only one with an odd hair color.”

“I wouldn’t be if Dwalin and Kili kept their pretty hair styles,” Bilbo said, winking at Thorin, who snorted. Bard looked from one to the other and hummed knowingly.

“What?” Thorin asked.

“Nothing,” Bard said. “Shall we get started?”

“Might as well,” Thorin said. Bilbo turned away from them, deciding to get some new prank ideas from Dis and the boys, raising his mug of ale to his lips.

“Have you thought of dumping stuff on his head?” Kili suggested. “Mum did it once with her famous chili—it was cold, of course.”

“I didn’t want to hurt him too badly,” she said.

Bilbo hummed. “Would paint be too much?”

“His clothes would be permanently ruined,” she said. “At least the ones he’s wearing.” Bilbo nodded and took a drink, only to spit it out, coughing. Beside him, Thorin chuckled. Bilbo nudged him.

“Hot sauce in ale?” he asked.

Thorin shrugged. “It’s a classic. Hot sauce in ale will never _not_ be funny and everyone walks into it.”

“A classic is a pie in the face.”

“That’s a waste of good pie!” Bombur exclaimed, eyes wide with horror. Bilbo shrugged and Thorin snickered some more. Bilbo nudged Thorin.

“At least we got steak sauce now.”

“Ale and hot sauce can be used for steaks?” Thorin asked. Bard massaged his forehead.

“You didn’t know that?” Bilbo asked, arching a brow at Thorin.

“I didn’t. Bombur—”

“I thought it was obvious,” Bombur said, taking Bilbo’s mug. He patted Bilbo’s shoulder with his meaty hand and walked off, promising a new cup soon.

“Wow.”

“You never cooked, did you?”

“Trust me you don’t want Thorin cooking,” Dis said, nose wrinkling. “Ever.”

#

Bilbo fought the grin off his face as he waited outside Thorin’s room. Bofur, Gloin, and Dwalin had followed him, drawn in by the smell of caramel. Which, perhaps, was dangerous, but at the same time, Bilbo was excited to find out what would happen if they also fell into his trap.

He smacked Gloin’s hand away. “No. I told you, these are for Thorin. You have to ask him first.”

“Come on, Bilbo, have a heart!” Bofur whined, giving him his best puppy dog stare.

Bilbo rolled his eyes. “Those might work on Nori, but they _don’t_ work on me.”

The door opened and Thorin stared at them. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing you need worry about. I was thinking…this prank war’s gone on long enough.”

“Well he’s right about that,” Dwalin said. Bilbo ignored him.

“So I made you some caramel apples. Truce?” Thorin stared at the box in Bilbo’s hand.

“Truce,” he said, taking the box. He glanced at the other three. “No, you cannot have them,” he said.

Bilbo snickered at their downcast faces and walked away. He’d only just turned the corner when he heard Thorin’s scream, turning to see him rushing toward him. Bilbo smirked, bowed, and ran as fast as he could down the hall. Thorin screamed Khuzdul curses at him as Bilbo hid in a closet waiting for Thorin to run past him.

Bilbo sighed.

 _To close_ , he thought. _Way too close._

#

He shot up in bed, gasping for breath as reality trickled back in. Relieved it was just a dream, Bilbo laid back down and sighed, covering his face with his forearm. A dream is a dream, but he wished it wasn’t so vivid. He remembered every detail—a remarkable feat for some, he knew—but still.

And what made it worse was when he realized that he wished it was real. Bilbo sighed and decided to get up. He lit a candle and got out of bed, pulling back the curtains.

The sun was a thin, orange sliver to the east. Soon, someone would come to fetch him for breakfast and a new battle in the prank war would begin.

Some hours later, just as he was about to leave his room to meet the others for breakfast, there was a knock on the door. Bilbo furrowed his brow.

“Message for Mr. Baggins,” a voice called.

Bilbo furrowed his brow and opened the door. There was a quartet of dwarves standing outside, grinning at him. He had a bad feeling about this. “May I help you?”

“We’ve a message from his majesty the king, Mr. Baggins.”

“Okay,” he said. “What is it?”

One of them brought out a pitch pipe and blew. Dread filled Bilbo. It cemented when they began to sing:

_In the middle of the earth in the land of the Shire lives a brave little hobbit whom we all admire._

_With his long wooden pipe, fuzzy, woolly toes…_

Bilbo covered his face with his hand.

_Bilbo (Bilbo)_

_Bilbo Baggins_

_He's only three feet tall_

He was going to murder a Dwarf. He was _three-foot-six_!

_Bilbo (Bilbo)_

_Bilbo Baggins_

_The bravest little hobbit of them all_

He closed the door in their faces. Taking a deep breath, he opened the door again.

_Now hobbits are peace-lovin' folks you know…_

Bilbo groaned and pushed past them, trying to ignore the quartet behind him. He arrived at the dining hall and entered.

_The bravest little hobbit of them all_

He closed the door in their faces again and glared at Thorin, who smirked at him. Fili and Kili stared at him wide eyed with matching grins. Dis eyebrows were halfway up her forehead and she was fighting down a laugh.

“This…you’re evil, Master Oakenshield.”

“You know, I happen to like caramel apples.”

“So all this because I gave you onions. Come on, you really think I’m going to cede to you?”

“Oh think you will, _sweetheart_.” Bilbo shook his head. Thorin saying “sweetheart” was not something that should ever be done—it messed with his image too drastically. Far too out of character for Bilbo’s comfort. “Besides, I worked hard on that song.”

“You wrote it?!”

“I did. Give it a few days, it’ll be Erebor’s new anthem if you don’t cede.”

“Make it hours,” Kili said, opening the door. “Come in guys!”

_He fought with the goblins, he battled a troll!!_

_He riddled with Gollum!!! A magic ring he stole!!!_

_He was chased by wolves, lost in the forest,_

_Escaped in a barrel from the elf-king's halls!!!!!!!_

Bilbo glared at the boys, who sang along with the quartet. Bilbo turned to Dis with a nasty glare on his face and she threw her head back, laughing.

“You know what? Fuck you, Thorin.”

“Ooh, Bilbo swore,” Kili said.

“Goodbye respectability.”

“I am not ceding because you’re miffed over some _onions_.”

“Good luck going anywhere without this song.”

“I will go to Mirkwood,” Bilbo threatened.

_Bilbo (Bilbo)_

_Bilbo Baggins_

_He's only three feet tall_

“And there’s another thing!” Bilbo snapped. “I am _not_ three feet tall! I’ve six more inches, _thank you very much_. I’m actually quite tall for a Hobbit just as much as _you_ are tall for a Dwarf!”

_The bravest little hobbit of them all!_

The music ended and Fili and Kili cheered. Thorin cleared his throat.

“Such a good song.”

Bilbo blanched. “Don’t you dare—”

“Let’s go again.”

And so they did. Bilbo collapsed in a chair, groaning. He held his head in his hands, looking at Dis and nonverbally begging her to stop the madness. She was too busy laughing so hard she was crying, dabbing her eyes with a napkin.

“OKAY!!!” He shouted. “I CEDE! I GIVE UP!” He raised up a white napkin and waved it. The group looked at Thorin, who hummed.

“Just finish the chorus.”

“I hate you!”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late. I had tons of things to do today and woke up late and...yeah.
> 
> Here you go.

“We’re have a little party to celebrate Thorin’s new victory,” Dis announced. “Don’t worry, it won’t be anything too fancy or large. Just the company and family.”

“Can we have Bilbo’s song play?” Kili asked.

“Absolutely not!” Bilbo snapped.

“All in vote for Bilbo’s song,” Thorin said, raising his hand. Fili and Kili shot their hands in the air and Bilbo glared at them, turning to Dis hoping she’d help, but she raised her hand too, even if it wasn’t as high as her brother’s and sons’. “Guess I’ll let the others know.”

“No. They get a vote to,” Bilbo said.

“Okay, but I’m not worried about it.”

“We’ll also work on _That’s What Bilbo Baggins Hates_ ,” Kili promised. “Add in the adventure bits to it.”

“I get the feeling your song, lads, will be less offensive than _his_.”

Thorin tried to look offended. “My song’s not offensive.”

“You called me three feet tall! You can tell just by looking I’m much taller than that.”

“But it wouldn’t fit as well,” Thorin said. “Was anything else in the song offensive?”

“No. Just annoying.”

“Okay, I can live with myself.”

“You’d live with yourself anyway,” Bilbo snapped, taking a bite of toast. Thorin shrugged, smirking. Dis massaged her forehead, mumbling under her breath. Thorin turned on her and snapped something in Khuzdul to which Dis replied with a gesture Bilbo _knew_ was rude.

Thorin rolled his eyes and turned to Bilbo. “You are so lucky you don’t have siblings.”

“My cousins were just as bad as siblings,” Bilbo said, “For the record.”

“Right,” Thorin said. “Imagine having to live with them. Twenty-four-seven. Forever. Only if you went through that will you ever understand.”

“It’s not as though I got away with everything.”

“You _did_ get away with everything. Fucking daddy’s girl,” Thorin growled. He turned to his nephews. “Be glad you do _not_ have a sister.”

Dis snorted. “Being the eldest didn’t get him a lot of free reign and I _may have been_ a bit crueler than necessary.”

“A _bit_?” Thorin asked.

Bilbo stood, “Fili, Kili, I think we should go.”

“Yes, we should,” Fili said. They left the room just as Thorin took to flicking jam at Dis, who ducked and released a loud war shriek.

“Goodness, they really get under each other’s skins, don’t they?”

Fili shrugged. “They’ve always been like that when they get in an argument. Just wait, weapons will be out in a moment and Thorin will be trying not to die. Everyone knows Amad’s the better fighter.”

“And the better politician,” Kili said. “If she wanted to, she’d be able to easily usurp him. The funny thing is, I think he’d let her if she really wanted to. It’s not like the crown is worth the all the social things he needs to do.”

Bilbo winced. “Yes, that does not suit your uncle whatsoever. But I doubt he had many allusions to what wearing the crown meant.”

“True, he didn’t,” Fili said. “But he was a leader while we were wandering the wilderness, looking for work and shelter wherever we could find them…it’s a little different.”

“Doesn’t mean Amad doesn’t know what she’s doing because she really does,” Kili added. “She’d be a scary queen if she wanted to.”

Bilbo nodded. He could see it quite easily.

“So, now that the prank war’s done, will you and Thorin _consider_ getting together?” Fili asked. Kili grinned and Bilbo glared at them.

“What makes everyone think that we’re going to get together? We’re just friends.”

“It has something to do with the way you two look at each other sometimes,” Fili said. “Like you see him and you see the sun.”

“And he sees you and sees the stars.”

“But both of you think the other isn’t looking. Some crap like that.”

“Yeah,” Kili said.

“ _No_ ,” Bilbo snapped. “Boys, look: your uncle’s a good friend of mine, but there’s nothing more going on between us. Even if we did forgive each other, I don’t know if he could trust me enough to want to court me. Or if I could trust him. We wronged each other. Besides, I’m not _mooning_ over your uncle. I don’t look at him and see the sun, the moon, or the stars and he doesn’t either. Okay?”

 They sighed. “You two are in worlds of denial and I don’t know how you could be that dense!” Kili said.

“Funny,” Bilbo deadpanned. “I could say the same about you and Legolas.”

Fili threw his head back and laughed and Kili glared. “I don’t want to be around you anymore. Goodbye.”

“Aw, Kili!” Fili shouted after him, following his brother. “Don’t be that way!”

Bilbo shook his head. If they wanted to be childish, they certainly may. For now, he really ought to get to the library and get back to work translating those Sindarin texts…

#

Dis’ party wasn’t as luxurious as Bilbo assumed it to be. True to form, it was simply a party among friends. The table was laden with enough food for perhaps twenty—and given Bombur’s appetite nearly matched Bilbo’s, he believed that was perhaps a good thing. There was steak and roasting pork on the spit and plenty of bread and ale.

Bilbo had almost not attended, but Bofur and Nori completely blindsided him into attending. As soon as they entered the room, the company burst into song, belting _The Ballad of Bilbo Baggins_ at the top of their lungs.

Bilbo glared at Bofur and Nori, but they had already gone to mingle with the crowd as Bilbo received many pats to the back for his trouble. And during the dinner, they burst into song again, this time with new verses to _That’s What Bilbo Baggins Hates_.

He tried to ignore them, even tried to make himself smaller and he wondered how he could have forgotten the ring! It would be quite useful at the time, if he dared say so. They struck a new tune after dinner where those not playing an instrument of some sort either stayed at the table or found themselves dancing with either a relative or their lover.

“Do you not care for a dance, Mr. Baggins?” Dis asked, sitting back down and fanning herself.

“Not at the moment,” he admitted. “And despite the annoying and humiliating songs made in my honor, I am enjoying myself.”

“Good! You should ask Thorin to dance. He’s not danced yet and he’ll only ever dance once. He always hated these functions. Only attends for the food, I’m sure of it.”

“I thought he’d have already danced with you.”

Dis shrugged. “He used to, not so much anymore. Besides, I think he’d like to dance with someone who’s not related to him in some way, you know?”

Bilbo narrowed his eyes at her. “If this is your way of trying to get me and your brother together—”

“I think you and Thorin have made it quite clear that neither of you are in love with each other. Personally, I think you are, but it is something you two need to work out together. Besides, if you two are going to get together, it will not be because we kept telling you two to stop lollygagging.”

Bilbo hummed. “I might go ahead and ask him anyway—as a friend, of course.”

“Of course,” Dis said with a slight nod to him. Fili bowed to her, hand outstretched. Dis stood, taking her son’s hand. “But you best do so while the music still plays. The musicians will have to go home eventually.”

 _Why do I get the feeling she’s up to something?_ He thought as Dis and Fili disappeared among the dancers. He grabbed two plates of pie and approached Thorin, setting it in front of him.

“I take it you’re enjoying yourself?”

“As much as I possibly could,” Thorin sighed. “It’s not as much as you think.”

Bilbo chuckled. “I figured you’d be bouncing off the walls from your victory over me in our little war.”

“Oh, do not despair. I may not be _bouncing off the walls_ as you say, but I’m definitely pleased. Enough so that I might urge them to strike up another round of _The Ballad_ —”

“Don’t even think about it,” Bilbo snapped, frowning at Thorin. “I’d rather beat my own head in against the wall.”

“Ah, but without you the kingdom will fall into ruin.”

“You flatter me, Master Oakenshield,” Bilbo said, grinning at Thorin. “But I think that so long as Lady Dis is around, your precious kingdom is in good hands.”

Thorin scoffed. “How’s that for confidence! You’re lucky it’s true.”

“Otherwise you’d banish me again?” Bilbo asked jokingly. Thorin’s smile vanished.

“I thought we were—”

“We are!” Bilbo said, waving his hands, blushing. “I meant nothing by it. I swear. It was a joke. Clearly in poor taste. Really, Thorin, I’m not upset about it still.”

Thorin leaned on the table. “I don’t understand how you can forgive me so easily. Were our places reversed, I doubt I’d be able to forgive you. It’s just…not who I am.”

“I think you hold grudges big enough for both of us and each one justified in some way or other. You can be fair and you aren’t one who easily trusts perhaps because of it.”

“You’re correct,” Thorin said, raising his mug.

“Dis said we should dance,” Bilbo said, smirking.

Thorin coughed and set the mug down. “She said so?”

“She did. Do you think she’s up to something?”

“Definitely,” Thorin said. “Thankfully it’s not the first time we’ve danced.”

“True.”

Thorin stood and bowed, holding his hand out to Bilbo. “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?”

Bilbo snorted. “I’m not a dame, Thorin, and this would be a dance between friends. Completely platonic.”

“I know.”

“In that case I accept.”

#

“Amad, they’re dancing again,” Kili said.

“I know,” Dis replied with a smirk. “Give them a week or two. They’ll be swooning over each other.”

“And if not?”

“Well, that’s why there’s always a Plan B, my little wolf.”

“ _Mum…_ ”


	18. Chapter 18

If Dis was up to something, she was remarkably subtle about it even with Thorin and Bilbo keeping their eyes open and ears sharp. It was easy to say it was in the little things that happened. Running into each other in the hallways, fetching things that could only be retrieved from a room where the other just _happened_ to be…

These moments happened far too often for Bilbo to believe that they were all coincidental. Especially when he had made a quick errand for Balin to fetch a document on food production only to find Thorin bringing the very same document…

He also thought it odd that he’d been invited to the sparring grounds by Dwalin and Ori _during Thorin’s_ evening training session—as if he wasn’t going to notice that! He made that schedule, after all.

Then there was when Oin gave him directions to a certain bedroom with one of Thorin’s serum’s for his lingering wounds—apparently, he smashed one of his knees a little too much during the battle two years ago. It was miraculous that he didn’t have a noticeable limp or need a cane.

Stranger still were the times  _Thorin_ had needed something only to run into Bilbo, be it in the library or in one of the guilds. Bilbo had asked about it and Thorin only mentioned having two legs of his own, why not do his own errands?

“But this is where I was told it’d be. No one mentioned you’d be here, too.”

“I usually am not,” Bilbo said. “Ori asked me to pick up some new ink.”

“You think…”

“Likely.”

“They wouldn’t.”

“I’m not so sure.”

Apart from the harried and unexpected conversations, pleasant as they tended to be, they still had breakfast together and tea.

“You’re planning this, aren’t you?” Bilbo asked Dis, frowning at her. She blinked innocently and arched a brow at him. Bilbo crossed his arms. “I want to know.”

“I haven’t the foggiest idea what you’re talking about,” Dis said, turning on her heel and striding away. Bilbo considered that as good as a full confession.

Why couldn’t the company just _accept_ that he and Thorin were just friends?

Why did they insist they were in love?

Even if it was true, it was too late.

Thorin would never trust him as much as he used to. Perhaps there was a time that the way he looked at Bilbo would seem similar to adoration or longing…but now there was nothing but mirth at best, and, on more sober days, distanced respect reflected in Thorin’s eyes.

 _And when did that hurt_? He thought one night as he pondered it.

He shook his head and stretched before dousing the fire. Bilbo climbed upstairs and prepared for bed, banishing any thought that he might love Thorin. He cared for him certainly, but _love_ him?

Even if he was in love with Thorin, Bilbo wasn’t sure he was ready to admit it. Or even accept it for that matter.

 _Don’t be a fool_ , he reminded himself, closing his eyes and drifting to sleep.

#

“You wouldn’t happen to know where I could find the treaty on textile goods, would you?” Thorin asked, startling Bilbo, who clapped his hand over his heart before glaring at him. Thorin grinned. “Sorry.”

“The one with the Elves or Men?”

“Elves,” Thorin said with a sigh, running his hand through his hair. “Balin said it’d be in this aisle.”

“He _did_ , did he?” Bilbo deadpanned, fetching the scroll for Thorin.

“Don’t look at me! I don’t know what they’re up to any more than you do.” Bilbo climbed down and handed the scroll to Thorin. “I’m afraid I’ll have to cancel tea,” he said. “Thranduil will expect me to _entertain_ him this evening after his arrival, so it’s best I refresh my memory on this. Likely he’ll want to try and rewrite it for his own benefit again.”

“Well, don’t let me stop you. If all else fails, remind him that his son will likely be married to your nephew _one_ day.”

Thorin wrinkled his nose. “Must you?”

“It is not my fault that Kili’s One is an Elf.”

“I’d rather it be Tauriel. Pity she found her One in Elrond’s daughter.”

“Arwen’s not a bad woman.”

“I’ve nothing against her. I think they suit each other wonderfully. I do wish Kili wouldn’t _mope_ over it.”

“He’ll get over it once he realizes I’m right.”

“And if you realize he is?”

“He’s _not_ ,” Bilbo snapped, glaring at Thorin. Thorin blinked and took a step back.

“Peace, Bilbo. I was joking.”

“Please don’t. It’s not funny.”

Thorin furrowed his brow. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Bilbo sighed. “I didn’t sleep very well last night, so I’m a bit on edge. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t speak to my king that way, should I?”

Thorin shrugged. “I grew up with Balin and Dwalin. They take liberties others would go to prison for. But not you, Master Baggins. As I said: we’d be lost without your diplomatic wisdom.” He bowed low, successfully bringing a smile to Bilbo’s face.

“Here I thought your sister would be the power behind the throne.”

“Yes,” Thorin said, straightening. “But no one said there couldn’t be more than _one_ person who knows how to rule a kingdom better than the king and offer him advice. Balin may be my advisor, but it’s you and Dis who hold the cards.”

Bilbo snorted. “I bet your council _loves_ that.”

“They’ll learn to deal with it.” He held the scroll up. “I best get back to work. I’ll see you tomorrow at breakfast.”

“Right.”

Once Thorin had gone, Bilbo groaned, hiding his face in his hands and sitting on the ladder attached to the library shelves.

 _Pull yourself together!_ He thought. _You’re not in love with him. It’s not possible. Not after…_

Oh, but it was, even if Bilbo wanted to deny it. He knew it was. Their companions’ insistence, annoying as it was, might’ve played a part. If so, Bilbo thought it more reason to hope this crush passed quickly—if only so that he can act normally around Thorin again.

 _Crush? What in bloody Mordor is wrong with me?! I’m behaving like a tween again, damn it!_ Bilbo stood and went back to work with angry fervor. He managed to distract himself for the rest of the day until he left and thoughts of seeing Thorin again filled his head till he remembered he wouldn’t see him till the next day which, for _illogical_ reasons, left him feeling a bit blue.

Bilbo stopped, grinding his teeth and walked toward the palace. He needed a word with a certain _princess_. He found her speaking to Legolas quietly with Fili and Kili by her side. “This is your doing, isn’t it?!” he snapped. Dis arched a brow, unimpressed. Bilbo didn’t care. “Having the two of us constantly run into each other nearly every turn of the corner?!”

“I don’t know—”

“Dis, don’t lie to me!”

Dis’ unimpressed glance shifted to dry amusement. She looked at Legolas. “My sons will escort you the rest of the way, your highness. I need to have a word with Master Baggins.”

Legolas bowed and followed Fili and Kili down the hall. Dis motioned for Bilbo to follow her.

“So, you are correct,” she said, approaching a table with a wine jar and goblets. “I did convince the others to help me get you and Thorin to fall in love. At least I know it’s working.” She raised a glass to her lips.

Bilbo gaped at her, speechless. He shook his head, hands on his hips. “I know we’re friends, Dis, but _this_ …how can you even _think,_ after everything Thorin and I have said about it _not happening_ , that this is a good idea.”

“Because it clearly is,” she said. “You two need a push and that is what we’re doing: _pushing_. The closer you two get, the more you’ll see we’re right. Thorin _is_ in love with you. He admitted as much to me after you left in the spring two years ago. You are his One, Bilbo. And I take it you do not know what that means?”

“I have a rough idea…a Dwarfish term for soul mate, right.”

“Not quite, but similar,” Dis said. “Take Kili and Legolas for instance. They both were in love with the same woman, and she rejected them both, finding someone she loved enough to want a life with and a life she could not see with my son or Thranduil’s. It’s not as instantaneous as many might think. Love at first sight is sweet and poetic, but far from what a real loving relationship does. I’ve always believed that love was meant to make someone stronger and better than they are. You do that to Thorin and he does it to you, correct? You’ve changed him and he changed you and you still shape each other. I can name a few examples:

“Let’s start with Nori and Bofur,” she said. Bilbo sighed and sat down. He felt this would be a while. “Nori is an unrepentant thief and con artist, Bofur is a drunk. However, Bofur doesn’t drink as much as he used to and Nori hasn’t so much as had an itch to steal anything since they met. Bofur makes Nori want to be better and Nori makes Bofur stronger.

“Then there is Ori and Dwalin. Ori grew up coddled by his brothers—overprotected and shy, but there’s a fierceness beneath those cardigans that Dwalin helped Ori unleash. Dori might not approve of it, but Dwalin showed Ori that he is stronger than he thinks and that he does _not_ need to be protected. As for Ori, he can see beneath Dwalin’s gruff exterior, and bring out a softer side, which Dwalin prefers to hide.

“There are many, _many_ examples around you, Bilbo. You have been nothing but good for my brother and my brother has been good for you. It is not _our_ fault that you two believe you’re unworthy of each other. Nothing is further from the truth. I didn’t make you feel anything, Bilbo, and we are not forcing your hand. Merely what’s happened is that you’re _finally_ realizing that you love him. And if Thorin hasn’t said anything to you about how he feels, well, perhaps if you _said_ something to him about how you feel, you might be surprised.

“I wasn’t on the quest, Bilbo, but the others were. They _saw_ something that you chose to ignore. They noticed the way Thorin looked at you and now that I’m here, I see it to, though you remain stubbornly and willfully blind to it. You may protest it as much as you like, and so can Thorin if he likes, but it changes nothing. My brother looks at you as if you are more precious than Erebor itself. Had he not begged you to stay and in light that you could not neglect returning to the Shire, did he not make you promise to return? A promise you _kept_ , by the way.”

“Dis, we’re just—”

“No. You are _not_ just friends, Bilbo. Do not look me in the eye and tell me that you are not in love with my brother, because I will _know_ you are lying.”

Bilbo sighed. “All right. Let’s say I _am_ in love with him and that he’s in love with me. How can you _think_ , forgiven or not, that we can go back to a place where we trust each other as much as we did before I stole the Arkenstone from him? Or even after he learned I did that and tried to kill me?”

Dis shook her head. “You two are blind fools! You don’t even realize that you already _have_ gotten past that day. Dark though it was, you both overcame it and you forgave each other. Since you returned, my brother has smiled, even _laughed_ , more than he had in decades.” She set the goblet down and knelt in front of him. “You are good for Thorin and I consider you my brother already. Fili and Kili think of you as their uncle. The people know your story and they are waiting for the day they can call you their prince. We’ve waited for our king to be happy again and you are his happiness, Bilbo Baggins. Please do not pass this off as a joke or even a phase. You are meant to be together and I would see that day if I can.”

He stared at her, trying to come up with a reply and finding none worthy enough to rebuff her logic. Bilbo stood and fled, Dis’ words ringing in his head. It’s a strange and hurtful feeling, knowing that you want something to be true but also knowing, in your heart, that it can’t be.


	19. Chapter 19

Since he spoke with Dis, he’d been feeling as though he’d been left in a dreamlike trance, moving through motions that were not all together his—not all together…natural.

He went to work, returned, had tea, ate breakfast all other meals in between the morning and evening, but everything felt insignificantly redundant.

The dreams that disturbed his sleep weren’t helping either, not when they kept taunting him with images of a wedding that likely would never happen or even ideas of what would happen before and after. If only to avoid them, Bilbo took to staying up later and later, reading by the fire and getting as much work done as he could in the nights.

Coffee, which had been imported from the south where it grew abundantly in areas like the Rohan and Gondor, helped immensely.

“Bilbo?” Ori said, venturing closer and touching his shoulder.

Bilbo rubbed his eyes.

“Are you all right?”

“Huh? Oh! Yes. I’m fine.”

Ori pulled the mug out of his hand. “You’re hands are shaking,” he said. “Perhaps lay off the caffeine for a bit, yeah?”

Bilbo stared at his hands. They were shaking. He sighed. “Perhaps you’re right. I’ve just…it’s been a long week.” Ori tilted his head to the side.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Bilbo snapped, pulling away. “I’m fine. I’m—” he swallowed. “I think I’ll call it an early day if that’s all right.”

Ori stared at Bilbo for a moment. Bilbo wished he wouldn’t. He looked a little too much like Dori when he did.

“Try to get some rest,” Ori said. “You aren’t going to do yourself or anyone else good if you need to drink five cups of coffee just to make it through a day.”

Bilbo winced. “True.”

“I might not know what’s wrong, Bilbo, but you know you can trust us, right?”

He bit his lip and sighed. He could take Ori’s invitation to talk or he could let it pass. He decided to pass. At least until he knew he couldn’t handle it on his own.

“I suppose,” he said, standing. “I’ll be at home if you need me.”

Ori nodded and Bilbo fled the library, almost slamming the door into Thorin. His cheeks tinged.

 _Why am I such an open book?!_ He snapped at himself.

“Are you in a hurry?”

“I—”

“I need a place to hide for a bit. At least until I can handle the damned Elves! Thranduil’s about to make my head explode.”

“I was going home,” Bilbo said. “I’m not feeling well, but Ori might be willing to show you a couple spots you can hide out at for a while.”

Thorin’s smile vanished. “Bilbo, are you okay?”

“Yes! Why does everyone keep—”

Thorin stepped back, hands held up. “Peace, Bilbo, I only meant well. Everyone does, _especially_ if you’re ready to bite heads off.”

Bilbo clamped his jaw shut and took a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. I’ve not been feeling that well lately and sleep has been a bit elusive.” _Please don’t look at me like that_ , he thought as Thorin’s mouth pulled into a frown and his brow creased. “I’m just tired. I’ll be fine once I get some sleep. I’ll see you to—around.”

He walked around Thorin, striding as quickly as he could without seeming rude. Perhaps it was impossible to not seem rude at this point. He did yell at him.

Once at home and the door locked, Bilbo leaned against the door and closed his eyes, only to snap them back open, having seen Thorin behind his eyelids.

_Please, no more of this!_

_I don’t want to love him…_

He slid to the floor, hugging his legs to his chin and wept. He was tired, irritated, and falling in love with one of his closest friend _was not helping_.

#

He managed to sleep for about an hour or two, waking up on the floor, muscles stiff, in a jolt. Bilbo groaned, massaging his pounding head and standing. His legs protested and he went to get a drink of water from his water pump, mumbling about how a cup of water would be very helpful.

After filling a glass, he leaned against the wall, watching the sun set behind the Misty Mountains in the west.

 _Avoiding Thorin isn’t going to do you any good_ , Bilbo told himself. _No matter how much you want to. At the very least, give him a plausible explanation behind it…if I can think of a plausible explanation._

Someone knocked at his door and Bilbo turned toward it briefly. He ignored the knocking a second time. Then a third.

“Nobody’s home,” he mumbled.

“BILBO BAGGINS, IF YOU DO NOT OPEN THIS DOOR IN THREE SECONDS I WILL BREAK IT DOWN!!!” Dis shrieked.

Bilbo stared at his door with wide eyes. His head throbbed painfully. Dis was going to aggravate his already bedraggled state, so it’d be wise to ignore her if she wasn’t as persistent as bloody Lobelia. However, she was generally better than Lobelia.

And, also unlike Lobelia, she really could break down his door and if she was forced to do that, well…

Bilbo decided it wasn’t worth finding out.

He went to the door and opened it.

“What can I do for you, you’re highness?” he asked, layering as much sarcasm in his voice as he possibly could. Dis strode inside, Kili beside her with a far too cheerful grin on his face. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to watch,” Kili said. “Mum said I might need to know how to knock sense into someone. Something about how I’m supposed to be like how Mum is to Thorin when Fili's king.”

“Lovely. You get to be extremely obnoxious.”

“You’re really not feeling well, are you?”

“You want me to dye your hair blond again?”

“ _Bilbo_!” Dis snapped. He closed the door and turned to her.

“To reiterate, you have a reason for being here, just get on with it and then get out. I am _not_ in the mood to entertain anyone.”

“Clearly,” Dis and Kili said. Bilbo wrinkled his nose. Like mother like son.

Dis crossed her arms over her chest. “What did you say to Thorin?” she demanded.

Kili stepped into the background, looking a little too entertained for Bilbo’s liking.

“He’s been asking around, trying to find out what’s gotten you down because lately you’ve not had a real fight and he is worried about your _health_! Not sleeping, drinking more coffee than what’s normal—you _need_ to tell him how you feel, Bilbo. I _promise_ he will not think less of you!”

Bilbo groaned. “I _stole_ from him! He _tried_ to kill me! Do you really think we can just get past that?”

“You already have!” Dis snapped.

“She’s right,” Kili said. “You have. And you make him happy, and right now he’s worried about you, which means he’s not happy and that will affect him.”

“We need Thorin to be cordial while Thranduil is here—”

“I don’t see what that has to do with me.”

“It has _everything_ to do with you,” Dis snapped. “I told you: you make him happy. Talking to you, being with you, eating with you—he _loves_ you, Bilbo. I would not lie about this! Do you think I would approve of just _anyone_ who approached my brother? Pushing everyone away—pushing _him_ away—isn’t going to help your situation right now. Tell him the truth or _I will_.”

Bilbo was vibrating with constrained rage. “And ruin everything?” he asked through clenched teeth.

Dis blinked at him and released a soft breath, seeming to calm. Bilbo crossed his arms over his chest.

“I admit I love him, but I can’t tell him. It took a long time to get back to a place where I can feel comfortable around him, where being near him won’t make me feel as though I have to walk on eggshells and if I tell him that I love him, I might lose him—”

“Or gain so much more,” Dis said. “Bilbo, I know my brother better than anyone else and _Dwalin_ is his best friend. They’ve known each other since they were children. And it’s hilarious how obvious Thorin is around you. I _promise_ you, he will not turn you away if you tell him you love him.”

He shook his head, eyes stinging. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Dis said. “I understand you don’t want to risk the relationship you have, but _please_ trust me. Thorin won’t think less of you if you tell him.”

Bilbo wiped his eyes, trying to catch the tears before they fell. Normally, he’d not let anyone see him like this, but perhaps it was a testament to his fatigue. Dis approached him and bumped her forehead against his gently.

“I’ll have Balin clear his schedule for tonight so that you and Thorin can talk. Trust me when I say that hiding away won’t work. Bombur will make dinner for the two of you, since I don’t think you’re in any state to cook.” She wiped away a tear trailing down his cheek and cupped his face in both hands. “You make him happy and I can’t see why he wouldn’t do the same for you. Get some rest and clean yourself up.” She let him go. “Kili, we’re done here.”

“Maybe I should stay,” Kili said. “Just to make sure he doesn’t oversleep?”

Bilbo shook his head. “That won’t be necessary, but thank you anyway…do I have to?”

“Yes,” Dis and Kili said.

“It won’t be as bad as you think,” Kili promised. He embraced Bilbo. “Trust us, if Uncle _doesn’t_ feel the same way, he’s going to have _a lot_ of Dwarves after his beard.”

Bilbo coughed a laugh and Kili followed his mother out. Bilbo locked the door behind him and swallowed, praying for courage.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Smut here. :) Just thought you'd want to know.

Bilbo smoothed his hair back, tucking it behind his ears. Then ruffled it, pulling his hair back over them. He sighed, he didn’t know whether Thorin even liked his ears. Early on during the quest, they just earned him glares from Thorin because his ears looked like they belonged to an Elf.

So he was certain hiding them was the best option. Satisfied with that, he tugged his waistcoat down and smoothed his pants, hoping he wouldn’t catch a wrinkle. Or a _rip_.

In the kitchen, Bombur bustled around, whistling to himself as he worked. Bilbo glanced in once in a while, trying not to let the smell of steak overwhelm him. He’d missed tea when he went to take a nap and now fought the gnawing hunger. He slunk back into his living room and sat on the couch, tapping his foot, reevaluating his cufflinks…

 _This is ridiculous!_ Bilbo snapped at himself. He groaned and held his head in his hands.

“Dinner’s ready,” Bombur said. “Thorin should be here soon, so good luck, Bilbo.” He clapped Bilbo’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Bombur. I’ll see you later.”

“Sure. And whatever you do, ignore Bofur. He might be inappropriate.”

“When is he not?” Bilbo asked, smiling at him. Bombur shrugged and left, squeezing out the door. Bilbo sighed and sat on the armrest of his couch. He crossed his arms and worried his lip.

 _It’s not that bad,_ he told himself. _You’ve had dinner with Thorin before._

_Never alone._

_True…but that shouldn’t make a difference._

_Except that I’ll be telling him that I love him._

_Ah. Yes. There’s that. How does one do that? Ugh. Why was I given emotions?_

_Why was he blessed with bloody good looks?_

_Ah. Yes. Thorin’s good looks. Not fair at all—_

He was pulled out of his thoughts by knocking. Bilbo stared at the door and bit his lip. He stood and walked over to it, hand curling around the doorknob. Thorin stared at him. “Hi.”

“Good evening,” Bilbo said. _Brilliant,_ the voice in his head deadpanned. He stepped aside to let Thorin inside. “I, uh, admit that the meal wasn’t cooked by me. I’ve been rather…”

“Bombur cooked it because you were too fatigued. Dis told me.” Thorin removed his cloak. “She said I could help you. Is that true?”

“Well…I guess in a way it is,” Bilbo said, fidgeting with his cufflinks again. He lowered his hands, and stuffed them in his pocket. “Perhaps we can…figure it out after we eat?” Thorin’s lips quirked in his trademark smirk. Bilbo wished he wouldn’t.

“Hungry?”

“Famished. Aren’t you?”

Thorin nodded.

Bilbo had expected dinner to be awkwardly silent, but Thorin had plenty of things to discuss. Thranduil. The council. Fili and Kili’s latest mischief. Thranduil. Dwalin and Balin torturing him in their own special ways. Dis being an ass. Thranduil.

The usual.

After they ate, they took the dishes to the kitchen. Bilbo was a little surprised that Thorin even knew _how_. “Of course I know how!” he snapped, scowling. “One does not live with Dis daughter of Thrain and _not_ learn to wash the dishes. Or do the laundry. Or clean a house.”

“All right, all right, I see your point. Your sister’s a slave driver.”

“Indeed she is. So what do you want to talk about?”

Blood rushed to Bilbo’s face, tinging his cheeks and neck. “I…well…I…maybe after we finish the dishes,” he said, refusing to look at Thorin’s face. There weren’t many dishes left, anyway.

And once hands were dried and a tea kettle set over the fire—Bilbo would need a cup after this, regardless how it went—Thorin followed Bilbo to the living room, sitting beside him on the couch.

Bilbo placed his hands in his lap, staring at them. He could do this.

Could he?

“Are you all right? You’re not sick, are you?”

“No,” he said. “It’s not like that,” Bilbo bit his lip and took a deep breath. “I’ve fallen in love with you.” He refused to look at Thorin, though he could see him shift his position. “I suppose it was from everyone’s insistence that we should be together—”

“I hope not,” Thorin said, cupping Bilbo’s cheek in his hand, gently turning his head and pressed his forehead to Bilbo’s. “I’ve been in love with you since we’ve met. I didn’t want to admit it then, tried to push you away so to protect you. And when I fell into the gold madness, I was certain I lost any chance of having more with you. You are my One, Bilbo, and always will be. I gave up hoping you could love me after what happened that day.”

Bilbo bit his lip and leaned forward, pressing his lips to Thorin’s. Thorin groaned, surging forward to claim Bilbo’s mouth. He caged Bilbo against the couch, fingers digging into the fabric. Bilbo wrapped his arms around Thorin’s neck, gripping at his hair. Thorin’s leg wedged between Bilbo’s, breaking the kiss.

“Tell me to stop now or I might—”

Bilbo growled, grabbing Thorin’s braids and tugging him back down.

“If you stop, I will make your life _hell_.” He moved his hands to Thorin’s belt, unlatching it and sliding his hands under Thorin’s tunic. “So take me now. Or let me take you—” Thorin claimed his mouth again, hands moving to Bilbo’s hips. “Bedroom,” Bilbo growled. “Unless we’d rather use cooking oil and I’d prefer it if we don’t.”

“Lead me.”

Bilbo pushed Thorin off and took his wrist, rushing up the stairs. The bedroom door banged open and Bilbo shoved Thorin onto the bed. Thorin removed his tunic as Bilbo straddled his waist. Thorin’s fingers brushed against the buttons of Bilbo’s waistcoat, pushed them through their loops.

“You wear too many clothes with blasted buttons.”

“And if you rip them, I will be _very cross_ ,"  Bilbo said, helping Thorin remove the shirt. Bilbo moved down between Thorin’s legs.

“Get back here.”

“In a moment,” Bilbo said, staring at Thorin’s groin. He nuzzled the clothed flesh and Thorin gasped. Bilbo grinned and unlaced Thorin’s trousers, freeing his cock. Bilbo hummed.

On the quest there had been many moments where they’d go without bathing for days only to stumble across a river and Thorin would call for a stop so everyone could get clean and refill their canteens. On the first and second times, Bilbo tended to be gawked at because of hairless chest. But otherwise the Dwarves were quite respectful toward him, giving him privacy while he bathed.

Still, in such situations, it wasn’t hard to not look and compare lengths. Bilbo wasn’t comfortable going that far often staying long enough to get clean then climbing out, but the others were constantly comparing (he wasn’t sure if this was done to compare or not). Even Thorin had been open about comparing anatomy, if he recalled.

He expected Thorin to be well endowed. Not that he wasn’t pleased with the image of Thorin’s slightly smaller than expected cock. It was about the same size as a Hobbit’s and perhaps that was average for a Dwarf too.

Either way, Bilbo was quite pleased. He had feared Thorin’s cock would be larger than he was used to. Bilbo grinned and cupped Thorin’s cock in his hand while the other pinned his hips down. He swirled the tip of his tongue around the tip.

Thorin’s hand reached for Bilbo’s hair, gripping at the curls as Bilbo kissed and licked at his dick. Bilbo took the head past his lips and teeth, still gripping the base, and sucked. Thorin’s muscles strained from resisting the need to buck into Bilbo’s mouth and digging his nails into Bilbo’s scalp. Bilbo released him and pulled Thorin’s hand out of his hair.

“I’d rather you try _not_ to pull my hair out. It hurts.”

“Sorry.”

Bilbo hummed, kissing Thorin’s wrist.

“Shall we move this along?” he asked, standing on his knees and unbuttoning his trousers, pushing them down his legs.

Thorin stared at him for a moment before grabbing Bilbo’s hips and turning him over, pulling the clothes off and placing his legs over his shoulder before rubbing the tip of is cock against Bilbo’s ass.

“You are _not_ doing that without preparing me first!” Bilbo demanded. Thorin chuckled.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said. “Where’s the oil you wanted, _Ghivashuh_?”

Bilbo frowned. “Geevasha?”

“My treasure,” Thorin translated. “Or my beloved. It’s a very common pet name and it suits you."

“I like the ‘beloved’ translation better, so I’ll let it slide. But I’m not your treasure.”

Thorin looked like he wanted to argue, but dropped it when Bilbo handed him a bottle of clear liquid. Thorin uncorked it and poured some over his hand before rubbing the pad of his index finger over Bilbo’s hole. Bilbo fisted the sheets and turned his head to the side, eyes closed as Thorin pushed his finger inside. Thorin pressed kisses to his neck and Bilbo dragged his ankles over Thorin’s back.

One finger became two. Two became three, stretching him wider. Thorin pulled his fingers out, cursing. He poured more oil on his cock and stroked. Bilbo watched, biting his lip.

Thorin pushed inside till he was fully seated inside him. Bilbo pressed his head into the pillow and Thorin kissed his jaw, hands petting down Bilbo’s sides, tweaking his nipples and fondling his bum.

“Thorin, you fuck, _move_!”

Thorin laughed, “Make me.”

Bilbo growled and pushed him over. Whether by his own strength or because Thorin let him, he didn’t know nor care as he bounced on Thorin’s cock. Thorin stared at him, his gaze unfocused.

Bilbo squeezed around Thorin’s cock and placed his hands on Thorin’s ribs so to keep a little bit more balanced as he slid up and down. Thorin licked his lips, gripping Bilbo’s hips and bucked up, hitting Bilbo’s sweet spot. Bilbo moaned, quickening his pace and adjusting his hips so that the tip of Thorin’s cock continued to hit it.

The curling heat in his belly grew and grew till there was little else he could do but warn Thorin that he was going to come.

Thorin’s hand curled around Bilbo’s cock, giving it a little more stimulation as Bilbo came, ropes of semen spurting forth over his chest and Thorin’s hand, squeezing around Thorin’s sex. Thorin rolled them over again, thrusting into Bilbo, who whimpered at the overstimulation.

He kissed Bilbo as he came, arms shaking to keep from collapsing on top of Bilbo and accidently crushing him. Thorin pulled out of him and Bilbo whined at the loss. He made to get up and grab something to clean them up with, but Bilbo grabbed his hand.

“Later.”

“But—”

“Later,” Bilbo said again, pulling Thorin back. “Hold me. Please.” Thorin returned, wrapping his arm around Bilbo’s waist. Bilbo kissed him, huddling closer for warmth.

“I love you,” Thorin said. “And all of the Seven Kingdoms will know you belong to me as I belong to you, _melekunuh_.”

“Thorin, I love you, too. But you need to be quiet now. I want to sleep.” Thorin laughed, hugging Bilbo tighter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you next week! *runs away*
> 
> And thank you to those who pointed out that the chapter repeated itself! I've fixed it.


	21. Chapter 21

He woke to a warm, wet cloth stroking his skin and opened his eyes to see Thorin.

“Was that really necessary?”

Thorin glanced up at him and smiled, discarding the cloth and lying back down beside Bilbo. “Would you rather wake up itching?”

Bilbo giggled. “I suppose not,” he said, closing the distance between them. Thorin took his hand and kissed the back of it, fingers held between them. “Two years? Really? And you never told me?”

“How could I? You only ever saw me as a friend. I didn’t want to risk losing even that. It was entirely possible you preferred females, after all.”

Bilbo laughed again. “We are a pair of fools.”

“Depends on whom you ask.”

“Oh? Like Dis?”

“Dis would say we’re more than fools,” Thorin said. “And you spend more time with her than I’d like.” Bilbo grinned.

“Why? Are you frightened?”

“There is very little that frightens me. So my saying that I am scared of my sister _ought_ to make one wary of her too. But then again, she likes you, so that’s good. Except that she and you get along too well and _that_ is a force to reckon with! If you and she agree on something I do not support, I would be powerless to stop it.”

Bilbo cooed and kissed him. “It’d be worse if my mother was alive. Consider yourself lucky. I loved my mother, but she was just as much a force to reckon with as your sister.”

Thorin snorted. “I think that’d be true,” he said. “Now I would very much appreciate it if we stopped talking about our relatives while in bed.”

“Ah. Yes. That would be preferable, your majesty,” Bilbo agreed as Thorin climbed back on top of him, wrapping his arms around Thorin’s neck. “Ought I wax poetry to your beard?”

“I’m afraid my beard is still not as impressive as most would expect it to be.”

“It’s longer,” Bilbo said, dragging his fingers through the strands. “Perhaps I could braid it before breakfast?” Thorin’s pupils dilated and he shivered as Bilbo dragged his fingers through it. “Do you _like_ it when I pet your hair?”

“And you are unaware what braiding my hair would symbolize?”

“I’m afraid I am.”

“I figured,” Thorin said. “Yes, I like it when you touch my hair and I would like you to braid it. A braid woven by one’s lover means that they are officially a couple. What differentiates one braid from another is the bead one wears.”

“Ah. So I need a bead first. I’m not sure I can make a metal one…”

“Kili would help. He’s a jeweler.”

“I was thinking of carving one and perhaps having a metal to reinforce it.”

Thorin hummed. “I like that better. Choose a good wood though and you could talk to Bofur, I suppose.” He pulled a face at that, but Bilbo kissed him and dragged his ankle along Thorin’s leg. “And perhaps the reinforcement should include emerald and silver.”

“Not gold?” Bilbo asked, fingers snagging on a small knot. He worked it loose, keeping an eye on Thorin to make sure he wasn’t caused any pain.

“It’s your bead,” Thorin said. “I’m offering suggestions.”

“Why emerald?”

“Is green not the color of your door in the Shire?”

“It is,” Bilbo said. “I like that. Would you also let me put flowers in your hair? White ones to contrast how dark is, blue for your eyes…” Thorin kissed him, rubbing his erect cock against Bilbo’s. Bilbo shivered, curling his fingers around Thorin’s beard and tugging—

“Thorin! Bilbo! Breakfast is ready!” Kili shouted. Thorin and Bilbo froze. “Where are you two?!”

“Damn it,” Thorin hissed. “One of these days…”

Bilbo smirked. “We could traumatize him if you like.” Thorin blinked, then returned the smirk.

“Uncles?”

“I’m afraid I’m not up for more.”

“So I’ve noticed.” Bilbo said. “I don’t see how that should effect messing with Kili.”

“Point taken,” Thorin said, climbing off him. “I leave it to you.”

Bilbo’s grin, if possible, grew wider and mischief shone in his eyes. He moaned obnoxiously and Thorin bit back a laugh, hiding his face in the pillow as Bilbo began talking about his tongue between loud moans. He slapped Thorin’s butt, earning a yelp.

“Stop laughing,” he hissed. “Oh, yes!” he cried. “Harder! Thorin, harder!”

“You are terrible,” Thorin whispered. Bilbo winked at him.

“There! Yes! There! Oh, Yavanna, you’re so _thick_!”

“Fili, they’re still in bed,” Kili said, an edge of panic in his voice. Thorin's shoulders shook. “Let’s go.”

“What do you mean they’re still in bed?” Fili asked. “They should be up by now!”

“ _I mean they’re_ _preoccupied_!”

“What— _Oh_! Yeah. Let’s go.”

They waited for the door to close before Thorin laughed out loud. “I fear what Dis would do. And Dwalin, for that matter.”

“Well, I’m afraid we don’t have a choice. You’ve got to get up for work anyway. And so should I.” Bilbo kissed him. “We should do this again.”

“Now do you mean having dinner, sex, or messing with my nephews?”

“All three,” Bilbo said, getting out of bed. “You want first shower?”

“And miss seeing you naked and wet?”

Bilbo arched a brow. “Think about what you just said.”

Thorin blushed. “That is _not_ what I meant?”

“Sure,” Bilbo said, smirking. He leaned in as though to press his lips to Thorin’s but paused, pressing a finger to his lips instead. “Because somewhere in the dark, lusty corners of your mind, that is _exactly_ what you meant.” He pecked Thorin’s lips and went to take a shower, glancing behind once to see Thorin’s dumbstruck expression.

It was gorgeous.

#

“Amad, we are _never_ going back there uninvited,” Kili snapped when Bilbo and Thorin entered. Thorin laughed and Bilbo elbowed his sides. Dwalin smirked.

“Thorin, he’s not even limping.” Ori smacked the back of his head, mouth full of eggs.

“The preparation was _very_ thorough,” Bilbo said, smirking. Dis groaned, hiding her face in her hands and Fili and Kili had matching expressions of horror.

Dwalin hummed and narrowed his eyes at Thorin. “I didn’t realize you were _that_ patient.” Ori rolled his eyes and smacked him again before swallowing.

“Behave yourself.”

“I can be, if I want to,” Thorin said. Ori glared at him.

“Can we _not_ talk about this at the table?” Dis asked with a rather pinched expression. She set down her toast and shuddered. “I just lost my appetite.”

“ _You_ lost your appetite?” Fili asked. “Kili almost walked in on them in the middle of it!”

“I don’t ever want to think about it. Can I please forget? Can we get Gandalf here? Does he have a memory potion or a mind scrubber?”

“Or I could bash your head around,” Dwalin offered.

“That works. Please do it. Knock me out.”

“No!” Dis snapped. “Dwalin, no. I will hit your nose with this,” she raised the butter knife. Dwalin stuck his tongue at her. Bilbo and Thorin exchanged glances, smirking and enjoying their own joke. “And you two, stop flirting! Mahal above, I shouldn’t have worked this hard to get you two together!” She stood. “If you excuse me, I’ve work to do.”

Fili and Kili followed after her, looking very much like ducklings as Balin entered, he watched them leave with a furrowed brow. He shook his head, mumbling about it not be the oddest thing he’d seen.

“Thorin, we received word that Lady Solveig is on her way here.”

Thorin’s grin died. “Why?”

Balin raised the letter up. “I don’t know. It doesn’t say. But she will be here tonight and while I agree that she has no right to be here, we cannot turn away a potential ally. I know the Dwarves of the Orocani have—”

“Screwed us over?” Dwalin asked.

Bilbo looked around. “Who’s Lady Solveig?”

The four of them looked at Bilbo. Balin lowered his eyes. “She was Thorin’s fiancée before the mountain fell.” Bilbo felt cold. A fiancée? “The engagement was broken after Smaug came and they refused to aid us in our time of wandering.”

“Then again,” Dwalin said. “Everyone did. Families spread through different mountains were allowed to go there, but otherwise…”

“Bilbo, it was strictly a political arrangement,” Thorin said. “I didn’t love her and neither of my siblings got along with her. When Dis learns of Solveig’s arrival, she’ll be furious. And her presence will do nothing. I do not know what it is she wants, but we will find out. I cannot turn her away without it spreading and the Orocani would be good trade partners. It will only be for a couple weeks in which time she will know that my heart is yours.”

Bilbo nodded, staring at his food, registering Thorin’s words, but barely. “What if she wants to pick up where you left off?”

“It won’t happen,” Thorin assured him. “It’s too late for that. Besides, _you_ are my One. If anyone is to be my spouse and consort, it will be you.”

“Which is just as advantageous as an alliance with the Orocani,” Balin said, winking at Bilbo. “Though farther away, we wouldn’t have to rely on Thranduil as much four farmed goods.” Thorin kissed Bilbo’s hand, trying to assure him that all was well. “We’ll be all right, Bilbo.”

“What if she—”

“Bilbo, _no one_ gets between a Dwarf and his One. Not even royalty,” Ori assures him. “She can complain and huff all she wants, she won’t be able to do anything about it.”

“She could plot assassination,” Dwalin said.

Ori smacked his arm. “I’m trying to calm him down. You’re not helping. I will dye your hair orange again. And make you go around like that for a year!”

Bilbo stood. “I need some air.” He strode past Balin and out the door toward the balcony.

“Bilbo!” Thorin called. “Bilbo, wait!” He turned around.

“Were you ever going to tell me about this woman?” he demanded.

“It was a century ago. And I never loved her. I still don’t. I haven’t thought about Solveig in decades. I won’t deny having lovers in my past, but she was _not_ one of them. Are Hobbits not the same?”

“No. We are. It’s normal for tweens to dally in relationships so to figure out what they like. It’s even preferred and encouraged so long as a no babies are made before marriage. Not that it matters, we may have an abundance of children, but they are no less precious.”

Thorin cupped his face in his hands. “She will not get between us. Not when I finally know that you feel the same way I feel. I promise we will get through this and one day, I _will_ marry you. Only you.” He kissed Bilbo.

“You have to get work.”

“So do you.” Bilbo nodded, a small smile returning to his lips as Thorin kissed him again, then his hands. “See you at tea?”

“Yeah.”


	22. Chapter 22

Bilbo wasn’t sure if he should feel comforted by Dis’ ranting about Solveig or frightened as she bullied the tailor into fitting into something remotely Dwarfish, save for the trousers which came to the normal length and height that his usual clothes did. To make it worse, she had ordered a maid to figure out a way to braid the hair on his _feet_. And there was no way for him to tell Dis to cool off and let him take care of the situation himself.

“Absolutely not!” Dis shrieked at him. “Solveig will expect Thorin’s One to be treated like one of the royal family! You’re wearing the damn jewelry and _stop_ fidgeting!”

“Can we at least _not_ braid my foot hair?”

Dis groaned. “Fine. Get him an anklet! Flashiest one we have!”

“ _Dis…_ ”

“Bilbo, trust me. I will _not_ allow that bitch to ruin everything I’ve worked for to get you and Thorin together.”

“I know, Dis, but there isn’t any solid reason for you to be this against her. Is there?”

Dis sighed. “Probably not,” she admitted. “But I’ll be damned if Solveig thinks she has a right to my brother when he has found you. Besides, she’s only after our wealth.”

Bilbo hummed. “But wouldn’t that mean she can go after your sons too?”

“Ha! I’d like—wait…” A dark smirk rose on her face. “Well, you keep getting ready for her arrival. I have to have a few words with my sons.”

Bilbo blanched. “Dis, whatever your planning, I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Oh, stuff it. My boys are boobies sometimes, but they’re smart when they put their minds to it.” She left the room and Bilbo sighed. Maybe he should warn Fili and Kili. It seemed to him they’d need a little head start at whatever it is their mother planned to do.

A few minutes later, the tailor stepped back, admiring her handiwork. “I know it’s not a style your used to,” she said, “But I hope you’ll bear with it, just for a few days.” Bilbo stared at her. Most Dwarves baffled at his disinterest toward precious gems and metals. “I worked in the Shire before. Very different culture,” the tailor admitted. Bilbo smiled.

“Did you like it?”

“Most of the people I met were quite polite. Not everyone, though. The further in you got, the less polite they were.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She shrugged. “The Tooks were quite hospitable and I could usually be certain that I could get business from them…”

“What a coincidence! I’m related to the Tooks on my mother’s side,” Bilbo said, leaving the room with the tailor—Efer daughter of Yemi son of Jemi—and discussing the finer and less finer points of the Shire with her as well as an arrangement to meet for tea as they went their separate ways.

He entered the throne room and tried not to feel like a rabbit amidst hunters as the council stared at him wide eyed. Thorin’s gaze seemed particularly heated. Bilbo glanced at what he was wearing again:

He wore the mithril shirt beneath a red weskit with gold trim and buttons. The trousers were black leather, which clung tighter to his body than he’d like it to. There were no earrings in his ears, but several braids had been put in his hair—painstakingly—to represent his status among them:

One for his position in the Shire (a lord by most of the world’s standard’s); one for each time he saved the company (and, more specifically, Thorin); one to represent his position in the library; and the last to name him a friend of Dwarves.

Each braid was held together by different beads Dis had brought. She only said they belonged to her grandmother, the queen, before her untimely death in a mining accident a few days after the Arkenstone was found. (Coincidence? Bilbo wasn’t sure…)

He wore two rings on each hand with different gems as well as three bangles on his wrists. A gold brooch in the shape of a bird with diamond wings was attached around his throat holding a velvet, green cloak in place. Around his right ankle was a silver and gold anklet.

He looked up again and smiled at Thorin. Balin tore his gaze away from Bilbo and elbowed Thorin, muttering in Khuzdul. Thorin blushed and Bilbo went to his side. “Dis got carried away,” he whispered.

“So I see,” Thorin said, clearing his throat. “You look good.”

Bilbo smiled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

A servant appeared and whispered to Balin, who then turned to Thorin. “She’s here,” is all he said. Bilbo felt the brooch almost strangling him and he pulled it away from his throat. Thorin took his hand and kissed the knuckles.

“Don’t fret,” he said.

“I can’t help it,” Bilbo admitted. Thorin kissed his hand again and let go. A moment later, the door opened and a blond woman strode inside. She wore a gown of white with gold trim and sapphires in her hair. Her icy eyes settled on Thorin and she bowed.

“It has been a long time since I have come to your halls, your majesty.”

“Clearly not long enough,” Thorin said.

Solveig straightened. “Come now, Thorin, you know it was not _my_ decision to end the courtship. My father ended it. Your quarrel is with the dead. Not with me.”

“You held sway. I’m sure if anyone could have convinced your father to help my people, it was you, Lady Solveig. What brings you to my halls now?” Dis entered and stood beside Bilbo. For a moment, Bilbo thought he saw a flicker of fear in Solveig’s eyes when they settled on Dis, but it vanished after a moment and she looked at Thorin again.

“To renew our courtship, of course,” she said. “If you are so willing.”

“I am not.”

“Because we denied Erebor aid?”

“That is only half of the reason.” Thorin stood and took Bilbo’s hand and only then did it seem that Solveig saw him. “I would like to introduce my One, Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, officially.” Solveig stared at Bilbo calculatingly, as though unsure what to make of his presence as Thorin waxed praises on him. Bilbo tried not to blush at the way Thorin spoke of his bravery and willingness.

“And the council approves of this match? Your One he may be, Thorin, but he is not a Dwarf.”

“The council had agreed that Bilbo Baggins is a Dwarf friend and he is certainly _not_ the first non-Dwarf to marry into the royal line of any of the Dwarf Kings of old,” Balin said. “And though it is rare, all of the peoples of middle earth mix their blood. A Dwarf and a Hobbit pairing became more common to us after we settle in the Blue Mountains. That our King has found his One at all is a blessing, regardless of Master Baggins’ genetics. To add, the king’s description is apt and true. I’ve not known a braver soul than our Hobbit’s. Nor one more humble.”

“Solveig,” Dis said. Solveig turned to her. “Are you questioning my brother’s choice of spouse?”

“Perish the thought,” Solveig said. “I am not fool enough to do that! I am simply confused. A Halfling to marry into the greatest of the Dwarf Kingdoms? To be the spouse of the King under the Mountain? What of heirs? Surely Master Baggins is _male_ and men cannot bear.”

“My sons are Thorin’s heirs,” Dis said. “And are considered the princes to the Line of Durin. My eldest son, Fili, is first in line to the throne of Erebor with Kili as second in line. I believe that means that the throne and line is secure.”

Solveig’s mouth seemed pinched and she turned on Bilbo again. “For a beardless creature, he is quite…comely in his own way, I suppose. Brave or not, I can see _some_ advantages to this match.” Bilbo ground his teeth. _Advantages?!_ Solveig bowed. “Congratulations, your majesty,” she said.

“Perhaps I could show you to your room,” Dis said.

“Excellent idea,” Thorin said. Dis approached Solveig and they left.

“She seems jittery around Dis,” Bilbo said. Thorin and Balin grinned.

“Before Smaug, Solveig got on the wrong side of Dis,” Balin said. “She caught Dis training with the soldiers, beating them down one by one. Solveig decided it was wise to say that Dis was actually a male Dwarf.”

“Dis had often faced scrutiny for her desire to be one of the lads,” Thorin said. “Especially from our grandfather. He loved her, cherished her quite a bit since women are rare and daughters in the royal family even rarer, he had hoped to spoil her rotten with pretty dresses and jewels. Dis _hated_ it. The older she got, the more she wanted to play at being a soldier with me and Frerin. We didn’t see anything wrong with it, so Frerin and I usually taught her swordsmanship in secret.”

“Didn’t your father catch you?”

“Yes,” Thorin said. “You know what he said? ‘Lad’s, that’s no way to treat a lass. Dis, mizimel, you need a more ladylike weapon. That one’s too big. Adad will make you a better ax that’s not too big nor heavy.’”

“Wait, why were you and Frerin called out?”

“We kept letting her win,” Thorin said, shrugging. “Grandfather was _furious_ when he found out Dis was learning how to fight with the rest of us. Adad didn’t care. Anyway, Solveig enraged her more than once and while there was little I could do about Solveig’s attitude then, Dis had no qualm’s proving that a woman could be just as great a warrior as a man.”

“Interesting,” Bilbo said. “I mean, I know Dis was a warrior, but I didn’t know she was actually a _warrior_.”

Thorin and Balin nodded. “I may be the king and I may be a warrior as well, but Dis led our people by my side since the battle of Azanulbizar. We are siblings, but she, in every bloody of sense of the word, is the Queen under the Mountain.”

“Does that happen often?”

“No, it’s a rather unique situation,” Balin said. “To think Erebor could have _three_ rulers soon.”

“I’m not sure what you think, Balin, but I don’t think Thorin and I will be getting married in a while,” Bilbo said. Balin waved him off.

“You are our Hobbit and your suggestions have benefited Erebor greatly, even when you are far on the other side of the continent. Trust me: getting you and Thorin together was a long and tiring process.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“Lads, you’re both more stubborn than mules.” Bilbo and Thorin shrugged. They looked at the nobles, who kept staring at Bilbo. He tugged on the brooch again.

“I think I should go get out of this and back into my usual clothes.”

“That may be for the best,” Thorin agreed. He kissed Bilbo before returning to the council. Bilbo left the hall and returned to his room, cloak off and carried in the crook of his arm.

#

“Why me?” Fili asked, arms crossed. Dis looked at him, blinking. “Why not Kili?”

“Kili has a One,” Dis reminded him. “You’ve yet to find yours and I need to know what she’s planning. Nori’s good, but she’s more shrewd than you think. I am not asking you to fall in love with her. Just _pretend_ to.” She patted his cheek. “If anyone can do this, Fili, it is you.”

“She already saw Kili and assumed he was me.”

“He _looks_ like he belongs to our family. It is a common mistake and you know it. Fili, sweetheart.” Dis bumped her head against his. “If anyone can find out what that bitch is up to, it’s you. I trust you and I know you can do this. All right?”

Fili sighed. “Yes, Amad.”


	23. Chapter 23

Kili focused his breathing, staring intently at the target as he drew his bow back. The Elves were still around and Legolas’ presence did nothing but irk him continuously. He let out another breath through his teeth and let the arrow fly. It landed in the middle circle of the target.

A servant pulled the arrow free and called for a replacement target to be brought. Kili rolled his neck. He needed a better target. A moving target. Maybe he could go to the forest and hunt for a bit…

“Truly your skills are unparalleled.” He looked at Solveig and felt shivers, not the pleasant kind, crawl up his spine as she slinked toward him. “Archers are rare enough among our people, but it seems you’ve mastered the craft better than Elves.”

“The bow is _favored_ by Elves,” he corrected. “Men and Hobbits and Dwarves alike can master it if they’ve good enough eyesight.”

“And Dwarves don’t have good eyesight?”

“Compared to Elves, no. But Hobbits and Men have the same disadvantage.”

“I was unaware that Hobbits existed till I met your uncle-to-be.”

“If you want information on Hobbits, you could ask him.”

“He doesn’t seem to like me much. Not that I can blame him,” Solveig smiled. “I’d be a bit upset myself if someone tried to court their beloved.”

“Well, you’re in luck: just approach him, apologize for it and offer friendship. Bilbo’s very forgiving and he’ll likely invite you to have tea with him later.”

“Tea?”

“It’s a Hobbit custom,” Kili said. “They eat about ten times a day.” Solveig let out a rather fake laugh and Kili grabbed another arrow, hoping she’d take the hint and leave him be. Even when he let the arrow fly, Solveig did not go away. He looked at her again. “Look, I think you’ve mistaken me for my brother. I’m _Kili_ , the younger. I know you’re eying the throne, so honestly, flirting with me would be a waste of time.”

There was a flicker of confusion, then a coldness in her gaze. It was quickly replaced with the fake warmth again. “Perhaps I’m not interested in your brother.”

“I think you’re not interested in us at all. You want Thorin’s throne. Why, I don’t know.” In the corner of his eyes, he saw the Elves—Legolas among them—entering the field. “But I think you should stop wasting our time. Whatever it is you’re looking for, you won’t get it.”

“Kili!” Fili shouted, approaching. He squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t be rude. I apologize on my brother’s behalf, Lady Solveig, we weren’t exactly raised royalty, so sometimes he forgets that he needs to be a bit more careful with what he says. But again, he really doesn’t like it when anyone interrupts his training.” Fili grinned at her. “Perhaps instead, you’d allow me the honor of showing you the mines? They’ve much improved in the last two years since we resettled.”

Solveig arched a brow. “I’ll allow it.” Fili bowed and took her hand, kissing it. Kili stared at him with confusion as Fili and Solveig fled. Fili signed _trust me_ , behind his back where Solveig couldn’t see.

“Lady Solveig is quite…bold.”

Kili looked at Legolas, who—for whatever reason—seemed rather annoyed. “That’s one way to put it,” Kili said. “For an old hag. I don’t see what Fili likes about her.” _He probably doesn’t_ , he added to himself. _If he’s sending messages like “trust me” behind his back._ “She’s not even that attractive.”

“And what exactly does a Dwarf find attractive?” Legolas said. “Big noses? Thick beards? Blocky builds?”

“Yes, that’s the conventional beauty standard,” Kili said. “And you must be blind if you’ve not noticed that no one in my family really fits that description. Except my mother and Fili.”

Legolas stared at him. “Well, your better looking than most of your kind.”

“By Elven standards.”

“Yes.”

“That’s not really something we consider complimentary. Besides, Elves are pretty by nature.”

“That’s not true,” Legolas said. “We’re a bit…looked down on by Men. Several kingdoms and tribes usually call us all _women_ because we don’t grow beards and prefer longer hair.”

Kili blinked. “Really? We’ve the opposite problem. Men got the idea that Dwarves don’t have women and that we’re born out of holes in the ground or hatch from oversized eggs.”

“And what ridiculous myth do they have about Hobbits?”

Kili couldn’t stop the smile growing on his face. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t know. You’d have to ask Bilbo.”

Legolas hummed and sat on one of the benches. “I can guess you have a fancy for Elves.” Kili spun around so fast, he nearly took his eye out with his hair.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Tauriel,” Legolas said. Kili looked away and unsheathed another arrow. “You know, we have to discuss that eventually.”

“What is there to discuss?” Kili asked. “She, apparently, prefers her own sex.”

“And that is a problem for you?”

“No. We’re sort of…free thinking about it. It’s not that.”

“It’s that you loved her too,” Legolas surmised. He let the arrow fly. It almost hit the servant, who fell back with a squawk. Kili set his bow down. He didn’t want to discuss this. “You were not the only one who had your heart broken, Kili. I was hurt when I found out she decided to pursue Arwen. I was certain when she befriended you that I would lose her to _you_.”

“Well, why does it matter?”

“Because I think we were just blindsided,” he said. Kili crossed his arms. “We thought we were attracted to the same woman, but what if we were just trying _not_ to look at each other.”

Blood thundered in Kili’s ears. “I prefer _women_ , Legolas,” he said. _Liar_ , echoed a voice in the back of his head. It sounded remarkably like his mother. “Maybe I do prefer Elves, but I—”

“Kili, I’m _tired_ of lying to myself. I _tried_ to be attracted to women, too. And to Elven women at that. I _can’t_ do that anymore. I’m tired, Kili, and I love _you_. I don’t want to fight about this.”

Kili needed to get away. He needed to think. He needed to be anywhere where Legolas was not. It seemed easier than it should be to just walk away.

“Are you always going to run from what bothers you?” Legolas asked. Kili paused and turned around.

“What else can I do? It is either stay here and say something I regret or leave and think it over.”

“You tend to say things you regret anyway,” Leoglas said. Kili faced him again.

“Okay, say I _am_ actually attracted to male Elves,” he said. “What would that do? My uncle hates your father. This would _only_ end in disaster and you know it.”

“So it is better to not risk your uncle’s wrath?” Legolas asked. “I’ve given up caring about my father’s prejudices. I don’t understand his views and I don’t want to be that kind of person.”

“Have you brothers? Sisters? Are you _not_ the heir? You can’t just throw that away.”

“I do not and I am the heir. But it is very unlikely that my father will die, so it’s not as though my being his only child matters. He’s been the way he is since my mother died and I’ve tried to be the son he wants, but I think we both know that there are some things that cannot be done. I’m done lying to myself. I love you, Kili, and I’m done pretending otherwise.”

Kili crossed his arms and ground his teeth. How could Bilbo be _right_? Well, they were right about him and Thorin. But that was different! That was two years in the works and Thorin had known for ages that Bilbo was his One.

“I need time to think on it,” Kili said. “Because, to be honest, I do not know who I really am. I do not know why I am attracted to Elves.”

Legolas nodded. “Let me know what you decide.”

#

The sun streamed in through the window and Bilbo peeked at the light through his lashes before groaning and tried to get up. Thorin groaned and tightened his hold around Bilbo’s waist. Bilbo sighed.

“Thorin, it’s time to get up,” he said. Thorin groaned a protest and rubbed his nose against Bilbo’s neck. Bilbo giggled as Thorin’s breath tickled his neck. He wiggled around till he was facing Thorin and kissed him. Thorin’s eyes remained stubbornly closed.

“Go back to sleep.”

“It’s morning.”

“What is morning?” Thorin asked. “Nothing is going to get me up this day. To hell with duty. Let’s take the day off and stay in bed.”

Bilbo arched a brow. “What about food?”

“We can eat in bed.”

Bilbo gasped in horror. “Thorin Oakenshield, no one is eating in _this bed_ if I can help it!” Thorin groaned again and hid his face against Bilbo’s neck. “Come on, I’ll make waffles,” he said, trying to ignore Thorin’s lips teasing his neck. Thorin’s hands trailed down his back and he pulled away from Bilbo’s neck to meet his gaze.

“Or,” he said, a grin trailing up his face. “We can stay here.” His hands cupped the globes of Bilbo’s ass and gave a firm squeeze.

“When you have a day off,” Bilbo said. “We can do that.”

“But—”

“No,” Bilbo said. “As much as I like the way you think, we do have work to do and _Balin_ is not as merciful as I am. Or dare I bring up the things your sister might do.”

“Screw them.”

“ _Thorin_ ,” Bilbo sighed. “Tonight. For sure. Today, we have _way too much_ to do.” He pulled Thorin’s hands away and kissed them. “Waffles in ten,” he said before escaping the bed. Thorin groaned again and reached lamely for Bilbo.

“Come back to bed.”

“Nope. You’ll just have to get up.”

“Cruel, evil Hobbit!” Thorin whined as Bilbo left the room, tying the belt of his robe around his waist.

Bilbo went downstairs to the kitchen and got to work on making the promised waffles. While mixing the batter, someone knocked on the door and he went to open it. Kili glared at him, cheeks red and eyes glossy.

“Kili?! What happened?”

“I blame you.”

“Me?” Bilbo asked, startled. “What did I do?”

“Legolas said he loves me.”

“Oh. And that’s a bad thing?”

“It’s bad,” Kili hiccupped. Bilbo helped him inside

“Are you drunk?”

“A little bit,” Kili said. Bilbo thought it was more than a little bit. He helped Kili in a chair and patted his shoulder. “I don’t want to love him.”

“Don’t want to love who?” Thorin asked, coming downstairs, completely naked.

Bilbo squawked and covered Kili’s eyes. “Go put some pants on! Kili’s here!” Thorin rolled his eyes and mumbled about having been seen naked by both nephews before, but obeyed as Bilbo threatened to whip him with a tea towel.

“I’m having a bit of a crisis here,” Kili snapped, “Can you two not be flirty. It’s very disconcerting.”

“Sorry, Kili,” Bilbo said. “Waffles?”

Kili nodded and sniffed. Bilbo sighed. This could take a while.


	24. Chapter 24

“I know it’s normal,” Kili mumbled at his waffles, which had become more of a syrupy soup and Bilbo had to take the bottle out of his hand. “I know it’s okay, but it’s just not who I am…is it?”

“I think you like both sexes,” Bilbo said. “And same with Legolas. There’s nothing wrong with it at all.”

“Except that he’s an Elf— _ow!_ ” Thorin clutched the back of his head and avoided Bilbo’s glare. Bilbo sighed and sat beside Kili.

“Kili, it’s okay to love him,” Bilbo said. “Your uncle’s prejudices should _not_ get in the way of being in love with Legolas and you shouldn’t let it. If Legolas is your One, we will welcome him.”

“Bilbo’s right,” Thorin said. “Besides, I’ve no right to judge interracial relationships.”

“But you hate Elves.”

“I hate what they’ve done to us,” Thorin said. “There was a time I used to get along with several Elves. I can understand their anger toward _us_ , but I do not believe that gives them the right to act the same. My experience with Elves is negative, but your happiness comes first…”

Bilbo arched a brow. “Are you feeling all right?”

Thorin rolled his eyes. “Apparently I can’t try to be supportive of my own kin without being questioned.”

“Because you are strongly against anything to do with Elves and _yet_ you are now spouting poetics about being the better Dwarf or Elf and I am quite confused where you’re getting that from?”

“But you told me to be more open minded! Just last night before—”

“Stop that thought right there,” Bilbo said, covering Kili’s ears. “Don’t you think he’s traumatized enough?” Thorin smirked.

“No.”

Bilbo sighed and cupped Kili’s head in his hands. He pressed their foreheads together. “Kili, it doesn’t matter what the rest of the world thinks. I am certain you and Legolas will figure out how to make it work. And you have my support. And your uncle’s if no one else. Believe me, lad. Those who matter won’t care about who you love, be it Legolas or Tauriel. Okay?”

Kili nodded. “Thanks, Bilbo.”

“Good,” Bilbo said. “Now clean yourself up and go get that Elf.”

“Or not,” Thorin said. “Either is okay.”

“ _Thorin_ ,” Bilbo growled. Thorin shrugged, wisely stuffing his mouth full of waffles.

#

Fili leaned against the wall, arms crossed and scowling. Solveig wasn’t just some hag his mother didn’t like. She truly was as arrogant as Dis had said. He sighed and rolled his sleeves up before straightening and approaching his mother’s room, rapping three times on the door. It flung open and Dis arched a brow at him before stepping inside.

“How is it going?”

“Slow,” Fili said. “She mistook me for Kili at first, but beyond wanting the throne…”

“Oh, my little lion, it is so much more complicated than that. If she wants the throne, I can assure you she is planning something far more devious than just a marriage to the king or crown prince.”

“What do you think?” Fili asked, tilting his head to the side. “Do you suspect foul play?”

“I do, Dis said. “And more. That woman has _never_ been as smart as she thinks she is. At least she’s leaving Bilbo alone.”

“She might not be as smart as you are, Amad, but she’s not stupid either,” Fili said. “Whatever she’s planning, she’s not hinted any of it to me.”

Dis hummed and took a brush. “Sit. Let me braid your hair.”

“My hair is fine.”

Dis clicked her tongue. “I know your braids, Fili,” she said. “Trust me. We will find out what she is planning. Sooner the better. Now if you don’t mind.” Fili rolled his eyes and sat down, letting his mother remove his beads and brush his hair. “I do not believe she is simply after the throne,” Dis said. “I think it is far more…complex than that, we should say. She is not a warrior, but that does not mean she is not strong…in her own way. Her strength is closer to a quiet sort and that either be a good thing or a bad thing. In this case, I fear it, Fili.”

Fili snorted. “Amad, you don’t fear anything.”

Dis grinned and kissed his cheek. “My little lion, I am a mother. There is a lot of things that I fear. If I could, I would take up the mantle and find out myself. But as it is, we two will find out what that bitch is planning before she can figure out a way to act on it, aye?” She set the brush down and rebraided his hair.

“I will do what I can, Amad,” Fili said.

“I know you will. For good or ill, I know you will make me proud.”

#

Fili found Solveig on Ravenshill, handing a biscuit to one of the birds before sending it off.

He filed the image away, making sure to report it to his mother. But if he could find out what sort of message she was sending, that would be phenomenally more useful.

“Do you like the view?” he asked.

Solveig spun around and sent him one of her fake smiles. “Prince Fili. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Nor did I expect you, my lady.” Roac approached him and he held his hand out, petting the feathers. “The raven she just sent,” Fili whispered. “Follow it, tell me and Lady Dis what you learn.” Roac cawed once and took off.

“Is that not your uncle’s bird?”

“He is, but there are many ravens who are in service to the line of Durin,” he said. “Any one of them can be at my disposal as much as to his.” Solveig hummed. “You know, we almost died here. My uncle, brother, and I.” He watched her face, wondering what she’d reveal. She remained stoic.

“But here you are.”

“We shouldn’t have,” Fili said, sitting on the stone boulders. “It was Bilbo who saved us. He was always braver than we gave him credit for…especially uncle. We were injured and spent a lot of time after just…trying to get better. Bilbo stayed for the winter.”

“Just the winter?”

“He returned home for a short while. Needed to get things taken care of back home in the west. But he came back.”

“For your uncle?”

“For all of us. He’s our family, even if he wasn’t Thorin’s One. Thorin loves him and I look forward to that. It’s an iconic love. Don’t you think?”

She shrugged. “Perhaps it is. Depending whether or not you believe that love can be iconic.”

“I think it can be very iconic. If you believe in that sort of thing.”

Solveig hummed and joined him on the rock. Fili tried not to recoil when she placed a hand on his shoulder. “And what of your line? There is word that your brother is in love with a male Elf.”

“I don’t care. Kili is my brother and I will always love him. Is that not how it is among the Orocani?”

“Not everyone can marry for love, Fili.”

“That may change yet.” He took her hand and kissed it. “Meet me here in the morning. Maybe the sun will deign to rise. It is a beautiful sight.”

“More grand than the mines?”

“Whoever said Dwarves cannot appreciate the sunrise or the light of the moon?” He watched her, waiting for her to respond. Finally, she nodded once and he stood. “I’ll see you tonight at the feast, my lady.”

“Feast?”

“My uncle intends to introduce Bilbo as his chosen consort officially there. There may be a surprise there as well.” He winked and left. Once far from Solvieg’s sight, Fili shuddered and decided he needed a shower. He mentally made a note to make his mother pay for this. Now how to do that without getting her battle-angry…

#

Bilbo picked at his new Dwarf-Hobbit mixed outfit. Specifically at the gold thread along his collar. How he hated it! If it was more yellow, maybe he could do it. He sighed and grabbed the mithril shirt, pulling it over his top before strapping Sting around his waist and grabbing the brown and red cloak. Someone knocked at the door, alerting him that it was time to go to the feast. Bilbo approached the door and found Thorin outside it. The way his eyes roamed over him could either be encouraging or unnerving. At the moment, Bilbo didn’t know which as he fidgeted, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“You look breathtaking,” Thorin said, swooping down for a kiss.

“And are you going to tell me what I should expect today?”

“What’s there to expect?” Thorin asked. “It’s just the usual festivities.”

“That I doubt.”

Thorin shrugged. “There may be a surprise for you,” he said. “But it’s nothing to worry about.”

Bilbo frowned, taking Thorin’s hand in his. “I love you, Thorin, but sometimes I wonder.” Thorin laughed and kissed him.

“Trust me.”

“That’s what worries me,” Bilbo teased, grinning against Thorin’s lips. “Sometimes you prove to be the most directionally challenged idiot I’ve the misfortune of knowing. Or fortune. It depends on the day.”

“You wound me. But I love you anyway. I will ignore this slight against my honor.”

Bilbo grinned and they walked to the banquet hall. He hoped Thorin wasn’t planning anything stupid.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shenanigans and Angst and Angry Hobbits...oh my...

Bilbo half-listened to Thorin’s speech. As much as he loved him, he could be annoyingly longwinded if he really wanted to be. This was one of those days where Thorin decided to be longwinded.

It annoyed Bilbo because, really, putting a Hobbit in a room full of food and denying it to him for the sake of _speeches_ was either very cruel or very stupid.

But just as he was about to give Thorin a pinch to let him know to wrap it up, Thorin turned to him.

“My Sanzeuh, friend, and councilor,” he said and Bilbo tried not to look confused. “And by this time next year, will gladly crown him Prince Consort of Erebor.”

_Did he just…maybe I should’ve listened._

Indeed he should have as the entire hall erupted in loud cheers. Bilbo leaned forward.

“Did you just announce our engagement? We just _began_ our courtship not a month ago.”

“But we’ve known each other for far longer.”

“And I’ve been away, Thorin,” Bilbo reminded him. “How about this: two years. A proper courtship that doesn’t include trolls, goblins, orcs, wargs, and you almost dying and then being separated on other sides of the world…by the green lady, it sounds like a bad romance!”

Thorin cupped his cheeks and pressed their foreheads together.

“Bilbo, I love you and I expected to have lost you a long time ago. I believed I would have to be content with friendship and decided it would be enough. It can be a one year courtship or two. I don’t care.”

Bilbo blinked back tears.

“You are a stupidly romantic Dwarf!” he snapped. “I don’t know how…how about this: we see where one year goes and if we’re ready for marriage then, okay. If not, we’ll have another year and get married at the end of _that_ year.”

Thorin hummed. “Are we agreed now, Master Baggins?”

“I believe so.”

“Good,” Thorin kissed him before _finally_ allowing them to sit and eat.

#

Kili picked at his food, contemplating his choices. The more he thought on it, the more he realized how right Bilbo had been.

Perhaps he and Legolas had merely been blindsided by Tauriel (not that she _meant_ to. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Tauriel had never actually _wanted_ their affection. Their friendship, perhaps…) and now that she was with someone whom she truly could love, they could…see.

Kili snorted, wondering what would happen when Thranduil found out.

He managed to take a couple bites out of his steak before feeling eyes on him. When he looked up, his eyes met Legolas’ for a brief moment before the Elven prince turned away to speak with a colleague (who looked rather confused).

He sighed mournfully and returned his gaze to his food. The way Legolas acted…it confused him. Was he in love with Kili or not? He needed a drink. Was there any more mead available or would he have to steal it from Bofur?

Stealing from Bofur was a sure fire way to cause trouble. And he needed to do something _other_ than mope. A fight might be just what he needs.

He looked around and found Bilbo and Thorin talking again, lost in their own little world, hands entwined and—by Mahal above!—Bilbo was feeding bits of food to Thorin. Kili shuddered.

Could they just _stop_? Kili smirked.

 _That would work_.

He stood and approached them. “Hi, uncles,” he said, grinning.

Thorin narrowed his eyes in his signature _I know you’re up to something_ glare, but Bilbo grinned back.

“Enjoying yourself?” Bilbo asked.

“Not really,” he said. “But I’m about to.”

“Whatever you’re thinking, don’t act on it,” Thorin said in his most commanding “uncle voice.” (Well they couldn’t call it “dad voice.”)

Kili shrugged and picked up his mother’s glass. Dis gave him a look and he splashed it over Thorin. Bilbo’s smile died and the table went quiet. Thorin sputtered and his face turned redder and redder.

Fili was sniggering beside Solveig, who looked just as shocked as everyone else. Then Thorin breathed deeply and a feral grin took over his face. He stood and dumped the mashed potatoes on Kili’s head. Bilbo groaned and hid his face in his hands.

The result was instantaneous. Dwarves jumped to their feet and food started flying through the air. Only Bilbo and the Elves didn’t participate in the food fight. Bilbo was just trying to finish as much food as he possibly can before anything happened and the Elves had ducked for cover.

Thorin caught Kili in a headlock and poured lukewarm gravy over his head just as Dis flung some butter at Thorin, hitting him in the shoulder.

After too short a time, Bilbo had finished, jumped on the table and whistled shrilly.

The fighting stopped and eyes looked at him. Even Kili felt fear when he caught Bilbo’s stance. His shoulders were squared back, his hands were shaking by his side, and if any caught a look at his front, they’d see that there was a righteous, angry fire in his eyes.

“SIT,” Bilbo ordered with such anger and authority that no one dared to disobey. “Now I know I am a Hobbit and my ways are _not_ yours. HOWEVER I am quite CERTAIN that this BARBARIC BEHAVIOR is unacceptable when we have GUESTS IN OUR HALLS!!! Even if they are Elves,” he glared directly at Kili and Thorin, who avoided his eyes. “Since you are all quite _keen_ on making a mess, I expect you to be as _equally keen_ on cleaning it up!” Bilbo turned to the Elves and bowed stiffly. “I offer sincerest apologies, Prince Legolas.”

“Normally the consort would apologize on behalf of his or her king,” Legolas said, crawling out from under a table. There was strawberry marmalade in his hair.

“The king is able to make his own apologies, _as well as his nephew_ ,” Bilbo sent Thorin and Kili scathing looks and Kili felt Thorin taking a small step back beside him. “They can speak perfectly well and I do not know why I would have to apologize for causing trouble on his behalf. I invite you and your companions to use the public baths to clean yourself up and to come by one of our smaller banquet halls for tea tomorrow: three o’clock in the afternoon. Perhaps we can _fix_ this mess my beloved and his family has caused.” He sent them another glare and Thorin took another step back.

Kili leaned closer to him. “Why are you scared of Bilbo?”

“Because Bilbo can be _very_ scary when he desires to be,” Thorin said. “It would be wise to stay out of his way for the next week, I believe.”

“I’ll do that,” Kili agreed. “But it was still fun.”

Thorin patted his shoulder.

#

Bilbo sunk into the water with a deep sigh. He wasn’t sure what got into Kili or why Thorin responded as immaturely. A part of him wanted to bash his head into the wall.

Or, more accurately, Thorin’s.

He’d never act on it, of course, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be angry.

How could _anyone_ waste food like that?! Bilbo didn’t understand…

He tilted his head back and sighed, wishing Thorin hadn’t let Kili antagonize him so. It made him question their maturity (yes: _their_ ) and also wonder if Thorin was truly ready for a relationship. A prank war might not be _much_ more mature, but at least with that it was mostly away from prying eyes and wouldn’t cause a political backfire like tonight’s _food fight_ could have.

Bilbo dunked his head under water. _What am I going to say tomorrow?_ He thought. He resurfaced as a knock sounded at the door.

“Yes?” he called and the door opened, admitting a still very dirty Thorin.

“Are you still mad?”

“Very,” Bilbo said, grinding his teeth. He tried to ignore Thorin, who had moved the towel further down the bench and took a seat. For a while, neither spoke. Bilbo turned on him. “What was going through your mind that made you think engaging in a bloody fight like that was wise? Were it all Dwarves, I’d have left it alone, but my people and the Elves don’t waste food like that!”

“I know.”

“Oh, good. You _know_. But then again, do you really? Do you know how much money goes into producing food? How much care goes into the animals that provide you with their meat? The time and effort taken to produce a meal meant to help one live another day? Food is meant to be _eaten_ , not thrown about like a ball! I had thought you at least would understand that!”

“I shouldn’t have taken Kili’s challenge,” Thorin admitted. “It won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” Bilbo muttered.

“I will behave tomorrow at tea.”

“Who said I would let you have tea with me and Legolas tomorrow?” Bilbo asked. “I am perfectly capable of hosting Elves on my own and I would rather avoid another disaster like tonight!”

“Bilbo…”

He stood and grabbed the towel. “You’ve not been to your own room in nearly a week. Maybe you should go back to them for now.”

He ignored how crushed Thorin looked, drying his skin and hair before picking up his robe and putting it on. “It was just a bit of fun.”

 Bilbo turned back to him. “ _Fun_ does not waste hard work. _Fun_ does not hurt others. The Elves were either very unimpressed or very frightened by your behavior tonight! You, Kili, Dis, and _everyone_ else there are adults! Or at least I thought you were! That sort of behavior…that sort of…honestly, right now, I don’t even know if you are capable of having a relationship! I can’t talk to you right now! So please, Thorin, just leave right now. I need more time than an hour to calm down. I need a few! I might even need more than a day. I love you, but I can’t…”

“I am sorry.”

“I’m not the one to apologize to.”

“Not the only one,” Thorin said. “You’re right. I was immature tonight. You had seen us act this way before and the Elves usually expect it. I didn’t think you’d be angry—I didn’t think at all. I know you don’t want me there tomorrow, but I will be. I will apologize and I will be civil. I love you, Bilbo and I don’t want to lose you over this.”

Bilbo scoffed. “I’m not leaving you. You’re not going to lose me just because you decided to behave like a Dwarfling tonight. Believe me, you would have to do something _far_ worse than start a food fight to make me leave. I love you, too. But I am angry and I am very embarrassed.”

Thorin nodded. “I’ll see you tomorrow, _men ghivashel._ ” He placed his hands on Bilbo’s shoulders and kissed his forehead before leaving.

Bilbo shook his head, swearing that he’d kick Thorin’s ass if he didn’t behave tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I was going to have Bilbo dump the potatoes on Kili's head, but then I remembered: Bilbo wouldn't waste food in that way...and him being angry at Thorin, well...I figured Hobbits wouldn't waste food in that way. They'd even see it as an insult to Yavanna or something like that and also, as adults, that sort of behavior is in fact very childish and I can imagine Bilbo being embarrassed for Thorin because of it...


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late, yesterday's story was late too, but it's taken care of and now here's today's chapter.

Bilbo stared at the display on the table with the pride a Dwarf had for their weaponry. Three different kinds of biscuits, some scones, tarts, crackers, cheese, chocolate…And he had separate teas for extended choice.

He didn’t know what Elves fancied in their porcelains. And if they never drank tea before, well, here was a good opportunity to show them true Shire hospitality without even leaving home.

He glanced over the kitchen and while it wasn’t as clean as he’d have liked it to be, at least it wasn’t a complete disaster. Truly, it could be much worse. He straightened his waistcoat and trousers, tucking his hair behind his ears just as a tentative knock echoed from the door.

Bilbo glanced at the clock and arched a brow. Were they afraid of being late?

He went to the door and opened it to admit _Thorin_ who somehow managed to fit in brown trousers, matching leather boots, a starched white shirt, and a dark blue waistcoat with a darker blue jacket. His hair was tied back in a ponytail. His braids were left on either side of his head, but he left the crown and the furs at home.

“I, uh, hope this is correct tea-going attire. Of course, I can’t exactly go without boots. My feet aren’t likely to be as sturdy as yours,” he said.

Bilbo’s mouth felt dry. Were it any other Dwarf, he might have laughed and given them an ale for their troubles. But it was _Thorin_ dressed like this and, oh, it was not fair of him to still look so regal!

“Bilbo?”

“What? Oh! Yes. You look delicious— _dashing_! You look…good. Very.”

His cheeks burned and Thorin _had_ to bite his lip.

“Really, Thorin, you look fine. Come in,” he stepped aside and Thorin entered.

Bilbo’s eyes trailed over Thorin. The clothes fit well enough and even a little… _more_ in some places, which will remain unnamed. Bilbo mentally slapped himself.

 _You’re about to entertain Elves for Yavanna’s sake!_ He admonished himself. But if _after_ tea…well, once the Elves were gone, Thorin could have no right to complain if he found himself against a wall— _and that is enough of that, Bilbo Baggins!_

He huffed a breath and fidgeted a little more as Thorin sat awkwardly toward the head of the table.

“Are you sure these cups are sturdy?”

“They aren’t made to be sturdy,” Bilbo said. “But so long as there are no cracks, it will hold tea well enough.” He couldn’t help but smile as Thorin played with the spoon strainer with a frown. “And that is for the tea leaves. There’s chamomile, green tea, jasmine, rose hips, orange cinnamon, and earl grey. Given the state you’re in—yes, you look quite nervous, Thorin—I would advise having some chamomile tea. I’m certain you’ll be fine. Just eat neatly.”

Thorin scowled at him for that and crossed his arms petulantly.

Bilbo wished he wouldn’t the jacket really defined his arms a little more than he’d like them to. He sucked in a breath and let it out through his mouth.

_Yavanna, give me strength._

At last the Elves arrived, dressed in their own cultural attire and Bilbo introduced each bit of food to them and showed them how to use the spoons to gather the tea leaves and how long to let it seep. It wasn’t the same as the usual parties in the Shire (unless one counted gossip), but the Elves ended up enjoying themselves. The women who were present had nearly started a war over the chocolates and Bilbo nearly had to stop Legolas from stealing the orange cinnamon tea tin.

But otherwise, the Elves were enjoying themselves far more than they did last night. And they needn’t throw about any food to have as much fun as the Dwarves. Nor did they need copious amounts of alcohol. It was almost hilarious to Bilbo how animated Legolas became once the chance arose.

However there was one who still seemed a bit tense. Bilbo gently nudged Thorin’s ribs with his elbow.

“Feeling all right? You’re awfully quiet.”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” 

“I am. You didn’t force me to come.”

“No. But forced you were, it seemed,” Bilbo said, frowning. “Or are the clothes not comfortable?”

“The clothes are fine,” Thorin said, blushing. Bilbo arched a brow. “Really, Bilbo, I am fine. I’m just not accustomed to playing nice with Elves.”

Bilbo hummed and kissed his cheek.

“You look fine, you are fine, and no one has commented on your presence here so far. Besides,” he leaned closer so to whisper in his ear. “You clothed like a Hobbit is nearly too much for me and I can attest that someone’s pants are rather tight.”

Watching Thorin blush deeper, and try to hide it by drinking more tea made it all worthwhile as Bilbo put a cinnamon bun on his plate before squeezing his elbow and engaging Legolas in a conversation about spring festivals in Mirkwood that he thought Bilbo would enjoy attending.

Thorin nearly choked on the bun when Bilbo slid his ankle over the leather of Thorin’s boot. It wasn’t as fun as Bilbo had hoped, as he couldn’t quite get Thorin to react properly (it worked better when both had a little skin), but it was enough to make Thorin fidget a little bit, but then he stilled and conversed with the Elf beside him as if Bilbo hadn’t done anything to try and ease him.

Well, Bilbo took pride in that it worked a little bit.

By the time tea ended, the air was mostly cleared and the Elves were quite sated, stuffed full of sweets and tea. With promises for another tea party to come (and Legolas promising to bring his father next time, if he could be torn away from whatever it is he preferred to be doing), they left.

“Well, care to help me clean this up?” Bilbo asked, turning to Thorin.

Thorin stared at him, a dark gleam in his eyes, and he strode over to Bilbo, pinning him against the wall and kissing him hungrily. Thorin tasted of jasmine tea and sugared cinnamon with cream.

“Tell me you’re not mad at me anymore,” he purred, kissing just beneath Bilbo’s earlobe.

“Not been mad since you came in,” Bilbo answered, unbuttoning Thorin’s waistcoat. He pulled the shirt free of Thorin’s trousers and snaked his hands underneath the fabric. “I certainly did not think you’d dress like a Hobbit for it.”

“I figured it was customary.”

“You’ll be glad to learn it’s not,” Bilbo said. “But you’ll also be glad to know that I am _thoroughly_ pleased with the outcome. Except the boots.”

“As I said,” Thorin growled, nudging his leg between Bilbo’s knees. “My feet are not like yours. Your feet might be able to take on the tough terrains, but mine would be sorely ill-treated if I dared step outside my doors without some sort of protection.”

He rubbed his thigh against Bilbo’s groin and smirked against the column of Bilbo’s neck as shivers wracked through Bilbo’s body.

“Help me with the dishes first.”

“They aren’t going anywhere.”

“And if we don’t do them now, they’ll be left till morning, so this,” he pushed Thorin off, “can wait. The dishes cannot.”

Thorin pouted, acting very much like a wounded puppy. Bilbo ignored the look as best he could and started to clean up. He smirked.

“You know, the dishes will be done _faster_ if you help.”

“Cruel manipulator,” Thorin growled lightly, picking up some of the dishes.

“No. I just know you well enough to guess what motivates you best.”

“Like I said: cruel.”

#

Kili stretched, muscles sore from training and a nice fatigue settling in his bones. It would be too late to go to the tea party, though he and Fili did take the chance to laugh at Thorin in his rush ordered Shire-outfit. They told him he should’ve gotten fur on his boots so to look a little more like a Hobbit, but Thorin drew the line there (as did the tailor).

Besides, at this point, a bath sounded better than tea. Kili wiped his still drenched brow and blinked in time to see Legolas approaching with something in his arms. He was smiling mischievously and two of his guards looked unamused.

“I still think you should return it.”

“The box? Yes. But not before I figure out where to get more of this stuff. Who knew tea could taste as good as wine?”

“Clearly Hobbits,” the guard on the right muttered.

“It has cinnamon!” Legolas snapped as though it was the most obvious and acceptable excuse for robbery. Kili cleared his throat.

“Stealing tea tins from my uncle? Regardless your reason, it is rather unwise to cross a Hobbit,” he said.

Legolas shrugged. “I know how to make some if you like.”

“No. I’m fine,” Kili said. “Look, about yesterday.” Legolas held a hand up and leaned down to whisper in Kili’s ear.

“I know how I feel about you and I’m not afraid. Are you? Meet me tonight. My room. We’ll talk there.” Legolas and his guards strode past a rather stunned Kili. He knew Elves were different, but he never imagined they’d be so bold. Kili shook his head in hopes of getting rid of the blush and ran off toward his chamber, wondering if he should take a relaxing bath or a cold one.

#

“I need you to distract her for a bit,” Fili begged Dis. “I can’t find anything out without going into her room.” Dis arched a brow. “For Mahal’s sake, I’m not going to bed the bitch.”

“Well, I’m relieved to hear that,” Dis said, shuddering. “But I suppose it’d be strange if I _didn’t_ talk to her about your budding relationship.” She smirked and winked, making Fili shudder. His mother was a cold and shrewd dam, that much was certain. “Very well, before dinner tomorrow. I’ll try to keep her busy for an hour. Should be long enough to find whatever it is you’re looking for.”

Fili nodded and bowed. “Thank you, Amad.”

“Of course,” Dis stood and knocked foreheads with him. “You have done wonderfully so far. Make me proud, my little lion.”

With that, he left, more than ready to end this charade.


	27. Chapter 27

Fili waited in the hallway for his mother to leave with Solveig. Dis passed by him, sent him a little smile, and approached her door, knocking. Fili kept his distance, relying on his ears for a cue.

“Lady Dis, what brings you to my mistress?”

“I have a need to speak with her,” Dis said. “I sent word about this engagement yesterday.”

“Indeed. My mistress will be ready shortly. Would you come inside?”

“No. I have errands to run and would like company. Both of my sons are busy as it is and my brother is unwilling to be moved from his beloved’s side.” Silence, the closing of a door and Fili resisted the urge to tap his foot as he waited. At last, the door opened again.

“Forgive me for keeping you waiting, Lady Dis. And also for bringing my servant.”

“Oh, no, I understand you wanting to be cautious around me. We haven’t exactly had the best relationship, but given that you have won my eldest son’s affections…” Fili waited for the clatter of feet to round the corner before emerging from his hiding spot. His hand curled around the door knob and twisted. The door refused to budge.

He growled under his breath and glared at the door before removing a small pouch from his waist and retrieving two small picks. He knelt in front of the lock and began fiddling with it.

“What are you doing?”

Fili gasped and turned around. He sighed, relaxing, when he saw it was Nori. “I need to get inside. I’ll explain later. You can help me or not, but stay out of my way.”

“Going after your lady love?”

“It’s not like that,” Fili snapped.

“Sure, it’s not. Though I didn’t expect you to be into older dams, if you know what I mean,” Nori wagged his eyebrows and Fili glared at him. “Move aside,” Nori said. Fili stood and let him take over, keeping watch. After a couple seconds, the lock clicked and Nori opened the door. Fili strode in and Nori followed. “So…what exactly is it we’re looking for?”

“Anything that sheds light on what she’s doing here,” Fili said. “Amad doesn’t trust her and neither do I.” Nori mock-shivered.

“Like mother like son, you two are a cold pair, your highness. Why not come to me?”

“You’re Thorin’s spy master.”

“Aye.”

“And if you were to approach Solveig she’d _know_ something’s up. She may not be as smart as my mother, but she is smart enough.”

“Check desks. Sometimes they have false bottoms,” Nori said as he stuffed his hands under the mattress. He yelped and Fili banged his head on the desk. He clutched his head, swearing, and glared at Nori, who waved his unharmed hands in the air and smirking.

“Can you not?”

“Fine. Ruin my fun,” Nori muttered, getting on his belly and looking under the bed. Not that anything _could_ get under there. Except dust bunnies. Fili opened desk drawers and removed the contents within. Basic stationaries, ink, clean quills.

Very basic.

“Check for false bottoms,” Nori sang.

“I _know_ ,” Fili snapped. Nori approached him and knocked on the bottom of the drawer. “What is that?”

“False bottoms make a different sound. More…muffled since there’s stuff under them. This one’s clean. Try and put everything back the way you found it.” With that, they checked the second drawer and then the last. Nori frowned once they removed everything from on top of it.

“What?”

“See how big it actually is?”

“Yes.”

“The bottom’s about half an inch too small,” he said, pulling the drawer free. He and Fili tipped it upside down. After a few knocks, something clattered to the floor. “I’m telling you: they’re not original,” Nori said as they put the drawer back. “I swear I want a challenge one day. One day. Is that so hard to ask?”

“Apparently it is,” Fili said, looking through the letters. They were sent between Solveig and the king of the Orocani Dwarves, her brother Korgan. “Nori, can I trust you to get these to my mother?”

“Sure, what are we looking at here?”

Fili smirked. “Nothing much,” he said. “Treason, an assassination plot, attempt to take over the throne. You know. The usual stuff.”

Nori sighed. “Again, they are not original. And one of these days, someone will be smart enough to burn these.”

“I never said she was that smart.”

“They never are…either that or they’re just vain and think these would look good in history books. Probably both. Either way, I’m sure Lady Dis will be tickled to get these.” They put the false bottom back in the last drawer and the items above were stuffed inside it again before they locked the door and left.

#

Kili woke to the light touch of fingers tracing one of the tattoos on his back—the one detailing his survival in the Battle of the Five Armies two years prior. He stretched feeling much like a lazy cat as Legolas leaned over, silver-gold hair brushed against Kili’s skin as lips pressed against his shoulder.

“What time is it?”

“Nearly noon.”

Kili propped up on his elbows and looked at the clock. He groaned and flopped back down. How did they go from needing to talk to falling into bed with each other and _naked_ at that?

Oh, he could pinpoint the exact moment he kissed Legolas, ripping at his clothes in their haste to undress, and he didn’t think he’d be forgetting how Legolas reacted to his touch.

“Is something wrong?” He was meant to be at a meeting with Dwalin this morning, but if Dwalin wasn’t looking for him…

He shook his head and turned to look at Legolas. His chest was hairless, save for a dark blond trail leading from his navel and below. He was well muscled, for an Elf, and his pale skin was unmarked. But surely he had seen battle, had been injured once or twice before. With the lack of scars and hair was the lack of ink. Not even a small rune could be seen etched anywhere.

There were, however, a few bruises on his skin left by teeth and hands alike.

“Do they hurt?” Kili asked. “The bruises?”

“It’s fine,” Legolas said. “I’m not some maid, Kili. I can handle it.”

“I’m sure you can, but are you sure you’re all right? Last night was—”

“Do you regret it?” Legolas asked, frowning. Kili shook his head.

“I just…I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I’m not hurt,” Legolas said. “It was a bit rougher than I expected, but not unpleasant. If it was too much, I would have told you.”

He sat up and stretched, back curving and Kili watched him lazily. Legolas turned his back to him and Kili got to his knees, pushing Legolas’ hair out of the way to kiss the back of his neck and down his spine. His hands locked around Legolas’ chest and he kissed his shoulder.

“ _Gi melin_ ,” Legolas whispered. “And I would like to stay, but it would be best for us both to get up soon.” Kili scoffed and kissed the skin behind Legolas’ ear.

“Fuck them,” he growled. “We wasted half the day already. Why not just stay here the whole day with me?” Legolas turned his head and pressed his lips to Kili’s.

“I would like that on a day we do not have to see to our duties. I believe I have already kept you from yours and I would not see you reprimanded for wasting a whole day.”

“You completely underestimate my determination to waste an entire day with you,” Kili said. Legolas kissed him again.

“One day,” he agreed, “But not this day.” He pulled away from Kili’s embrace and gathered his clothes. Kili laid back down and watched him. How did they get blindsided by Tauriel? Were they really that determined to never look at each other? For what reason—

Oh, he would blame Thorin’s prejudices just as much as Legolas will blame his father’s.

Legolas looked at him again and kissed him. “There’s another feast tonight and my people will be there.”

“I make no promises, but I am sure given Bilbo’s attitude the last time there was a food fight, my people will be better behaved. Thorin will be for sure. You should’ve seen the lengths he went through to get Bilbo to forgive him. I think he would’ve drenched himself in chocolate if he thought it would work!”

And that was _not_ an image he wanted to think of, a fact he promptly made known and Legolas laughed before leaving the room as Kili begged for a mental mind scrub.

“I do not have that ability,” Legolas said. “And even if I did, I wouldn’t do it.”

Kili threw a pillow at him, but he already closed the door. Kili groaned, hiding his face in the remaining pillow. Well, he might as well get up and try to ignore any thought concerning Thorin and chocolate.

#

“I don’t know what to be more mad about,” Thorin said as he looked through the letters Dis had given him. “That you used _my heir_ to do your dirty work or this!”

“I think that is more likely to be the source of your ire, dear brother,” Dis said. “And Fili might be _your heir_ , but he is also _my son_ through and through. I may never see the throne, but it is my blood that will be taking over it in a few years. Either when you abdicate and move to the Shire with Bilbo or when you finally snuff it.”

“That is not funny!” Thorin snapped. Dis grinned.

“It’s a little funny,” she said. Thorin massaged his forehead. “Fine, I’m sorry. I do love you, Nadad. But with this in light, what do we do now?”

“There’s the feast tonight,” Thorin said. “Have her arrested before then. If Solveig thinks she can get away with seducing Fili and taking over the throne through assassinating our line, she thought wrong.”

“Ooh, can I do it?”

“Why would I deny you that pleasure?” he asked. “I’d let Bilbo do it if he was so inclined. Which he isn’t. He isn’t going to enjoy this, which is why I’ll need to warn him.” Thorin stood and they left his office together. “It shouldn’t take more than a few minutes. Tell my council I’ll be there shortly.”

“Balin can do that. I have a knife to sharpen.”

Thorin paled. “By Mahal, we’re about to banish someone for treason. Can’t you be a little less giddy?”

“It’s Solveig and she’s been putting her hands on my child—I know Fili’s an adult. That doesn’t make it any easier.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you decided to use him.”

“I would’ve done it myself if she was inclined toward dams!” Dis snapped back. “Don’t take too much time with Bilbo, now.” Thorin glared at her as she parted ways with him.

Bilbo was not going to be pleased…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~Sindarin~  
> Gi melin=I love you


	28. Chapter 28

“Will it hurt her?” Bilbo asked.

“Only emotionally,” Thorin said. “She will not be physically harmed. But if she struggles, then there is little to be done.”

Bilbo hummed. “You didn’t threaten to shave me when you banished me.”

“I doubt it’d have the same cultural meaning to you,” Thorin said. “And to be fair, I didn’t actually think of that. You were beardless to begin with anyway.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’d still have thought to shave my feet if it occurred to you,” Bilbo said, the corners of his lips curving upward. Thorin shook his head.

“Never thought of it. Besides.” He pulled Bilbo’s legs over his lap and ran his fingers through the thick curls that went from above Bilbo’s ankles to the base of his toes. “Why would I want to? You have glorious feet.”

“You do realize that Hobbit feet are regularly washed, right?”

“I’m sure they are,” Thorin said, smirking. Bilbo pulled his legs free and kissed Thorin’s cheek before standing up. Thorin seized his wrist and pulled him back into his lap with a yelp.

“I have bread in the oven and it needs to be checked before it burns!”

“It can survive a moment longer. Kiss me.”

Bilbo pried Thorin’s hands off him. “One kiss will turned to ten before long and then the bread will be wondering why I decided to turn it to charcoal instead.” Bilbo pulled away from Thorin and went to the kitchen. The bread was set on a cutting board, steaming and emitting a wondrous smell. Fresh bread and warmth…smells like home…

“While you’re in there, can you get me an ale?” Thorin called. Bilbo sighed and massaged his forehead.

“You are perfectly capable of getting your _own_ ale, Thorin Oakenshield,” he snapped.

“But you’re already in the kitchen.”

He stood in the kitchen’s entryway and smirked at Thorin. “And you’re sitting on my couch, trying to be lazy,” Bilbo said. “I can get you a drink or I can kiss you, I can’t do both.”

Thorin grinned. “I can think of a way where both can happen,” he said. Bilbo arched a brow. “What?”

“Would you like to reiterate?” Bilbo asked. “Are we talking at the same time or one after the other?”

“Either works,” Thorin said, smirking. Bilbo rolled his eyes. “What?”

“You’re not getting my ale and you’re not getting kissed for that.”

“What? Why?”

“No! Nope. I am _not_ looking at your big puppy eyes!” Bilbo decided, retreating back into the kitchen to help himself to some ale. When he had his cup, he spotted Thorin, who kept giving him the big puppy eyes (well, at least he knows where Kili learned it from). He turned his back to Thorin and drank. Thorin pulled the mug out of Bilbo’s hands and finished it.

Bilbo gaped at him. “You are an absolute _cock_!”

“Last I checked, that wasn’t much of a problem,” Thorin said, smirking. Bilbo smacked his arm and the mug went flying toward the bread loaf. Bilbo shrieked and dove for the mug, managing to slap it away before tripping and banging his shoulder against the table corner.

“Bilbo!” Thorin shouted kneeling beside him. Bilbo rubbed his shoulder.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Though my arm may be a bit funny for a bit…really Thorin, I’ve been through worse than this.” He rolled his shoulder and winced. “I will not say it doesn’t hurt.” He stood and Thorin forced him into a chair. “Thorin?”

“Take off your shirt.”

“Sorry?”

“Let me look.”

“It’ll just bruise,” Bilbo mumbled, but he did what he was bidden and Thorin examined his shoulder. “Goodness, Thorin, it’s not the first time we’ve horsed around.”

“And I’d rather you not be hurt when we do,” Thorin said. He kissed Bilbo’s shoulder and muttered about ice. Bilbo pointed out where his ice box was and Thorin dove for it, chipping a few pieces and wrapping them up in linen before pressing the makeshift ice pack against Bilbo’s shoulder.

“You’ve done this before, I take it.”

“You try running after Kili when he’s seven years old and refuses to wear pants, running into one thing and another.” Bilbo chuckled.

“He must’ve been an adorable child.”

“He was,” Thorin said. “As was Fili, but Fili was actually very calm and easy to handle by comparison.”

“So that is why Fili’s the heir, is it?”

Thorin snorted. “Yes. I didn’t make Fili my heir because he’s the eldest. Where did anyone think that was logical? The more levelheaded and easy to care for child is _always_ the heir.” Thorin took the ice pack off and kissed Bilbo’s shoulder. “I love you.”

Bilbo chuckled. “And I love you, my king.”

“You’re not mad?”

“Thorin, I knocked the mug out of your hand and dove for it. The only crime you committed was stealing my ale.”

“And if I didn’t—”

Bilbo turned around and covered Thorin’s mouth with his hand. “You need to stop taking blame for my idiocy. I’m no fool, but I have my moments. Everyone does. This was just a moment.” He lowered his hand and kissed Thorin. “Now I think we have a feast to get ready for?”

“Unless you want to watch me banish a Dwarrowdam…Dis will be doing the shaving.”

“Well, Dis doesn’t like Solveig at all and since she planned to hurt you and your family, who will one day be _my_ family, I will be there for moral support, but don’t think I’ll like it.”

“I didn’t think you would,” Thorin sighed. Bilbo pressed his forehead to Thorin’s.

“I will be there. Is there anything I should specifically wear to this or will a quick change in waistcoat be sufficient?” Thorin smiled.

“It’s not going to be public, just us. Solveig is royalty. If it were public, all of Erebor would want to see. The sooner she’s out of my kingdom and away from my family, the better. You could come covered in flour and I’d not care.”

“Don’t tempt me,” Bilbo said. “My waistcoat is covered in flour.”

“My point exactly,” Thorin said, cupping the back of Bilbo’s neck and pressing his lips to Bilbo’s mouth just as someone knocked on the front door. Bilbo pulled away with a sigh.

“I’ll be back in a moment.”

“But your shoulder—”

“My arm is fine,” Bilbo snapped. “Don’t worry so much. Yavanna’s hoe, you’re worse than Dori!”

“No one is as bad as Dori,” Thorin corrected, following Bilbo to the door. Bilbo fixed his shirt and opened the door for Balin. “So I’m _not_ the only one who comes here.”

“Of course not, but when you’re not in your room, you’re likely here,” Balin said. Bilbo chuckled. “Solveig’s been arrested and we’re waiting for you. I suggest you hurry. I don’t know how long Dwalin can keep Dis away from her knives.”

“Let me change my waistcoat,” Bilbo said, rushing up the stairs.

“You’re letting him come?” Balin asked, startled, but not disapproving.

“He will be my consort. Might as well let him be there,” Thorin said.

“Good idea. I know you’re not thinking of it, but it does show solidity among the royal family if Bilbo’s not treated like arm candy.”

“I can hear you!” Bilbo shouted down the stairs as he traded his black, flour dusted waistcoat for a dark blue one to match a navy blue jacket. He buttoned the brass buttons and joined them at the bottom of the stairs. “And I’ll have you know that if all I am is arm candy, I wouldn’t be open to getting married. I’d rather be treated as an equal, thank you very much!”

“Not blaming you, laddie,” Balin agreed.

“What do you two think I am?” Thorin asked, puppy eyes back. Bilbo punched Thorin’s arm, favoring the injured one, and they laughed on their way to the throne room. There, Thorin put on his crown and cloak before sitting down, masking his face with solemnity and Bilbo glanced at the rest of the family. For now, the brothers were seated and Dis paced, arms crossed over her chest.

Balin muttered under his breath. “Bilbo, if you’d stand to Thorin’s immediate right.” Bilbo moved closer to the throne. “A little more…there. Dis, on the left. Kili stand next to your mother. Fili, I know you know where to stand! Get on your feet!”

“Does it really matter where we stand or sit?” Kili asked.

“This may not be ceremonial, but you will stand in your proper places,” Balin snapped. Fili stood on the step below the throne while Kili on the middle step, thumb tucked in his belt. “Good—Kili, don’t slouch! There…we’re ready. I’ll get Dwalin—”

The door banged open and Dwalin strode toward them with Solveig, grip tight on her arm. Behind them were two guards and Solveig’s servant. Balin muttered under his breath and Bilbo tried not to laugh. He did feel a little sorry for Balin, if nothing else.

Dwalin released Solveig’s arm and shoved her to her knees.

“May I ask why I am being treated like a criminal?” Solveig demanded. “I am a daughter of the Orocani, Thorin—”

“Whom, I may note, knows no honor,” Thorin snarled. “Fili found some rather disturbing letters in your room: letters that detailed a plot to assassinate my nephews and myself. Possibly even my sister. And I do not doubt you’d find a reason to murder my One as well.”

Solveig pursed her lips and turned to Fili. “You used me.”

“No more than you did me,” Fili said coolly. Solveig sucked in a breath.

“You are indeed the son of the Shield Queen.”

“Is that what they call me?” Dis asked, “Can’t say I object to it.” Bilbo caught Thorin’s mouth twitching a though resisting the urge to smile. “Shield Queen” did suit Dis. “Back to point: you plotted to murder my family.”

“Then banish me from Erebor,” Solveig sneered.

“Oh, we intend to,” Dis said. She nodded at Dwalin, who pulled out a dagger. Dis stepped down to their level. “But not just from Erebor. I will ensure that you _never_ plot such a thing again. Balin has already sent a letter to your brother Korgan that we will be ceasing our treaty with the Orocani till the end of his reign.” Dis seized Solveig’s beard and the servant shrieked. Solveig froze as Dis sliced the hairs off.

Bilbo didn’t know how to react, and he stood seemingly emotionless as Dis sheered Solveig’s beard. At last, she stepped back.

“Escort her out,” Thorin said. “And lock her servant away.”

Dwalin bowed and helped Solveig up. Her servant wept as he was carted away to the dungeons. Dis turned to them and Bilbo noted the slight trembling in her hands.

“We have a celebration to prepare for,” she reminded them. “Boys, with me. And you are braiding your hair for tonight, Kili.”

“Yes, Amad,” Kili sighed.

“Ah—there’s another thing!” Balin said. “I just remembered: Thranduil will be there tonight. Something about a breach in propriety or that sort.”

Thorin sighed. “If it has to do with the food fight…”

“No, something else.” Balin looked at Kili, and soon all eyes were on him. “He said it had to do with you and your intentions…”

Bilbo grinned. “Kili, what did you do?”

“I…nothing! What? Am I not allowed to court my One? Thorin is!”

Thorin sighed and shook his head. Bilbo patted his shoulder. “Remember: Thranduil is suffering too.”

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter will be up later today. Why not? Right? Why wait another week?


	29. Chapter 29

It was somewhat entertaining watching Kili attempt to avoid Thranduil’s staring.

A part of him wondered if he ought to help him out, but Bilbo decided against it, hiding behind his goblet. Legolas whispered in Thranduil’s ear, trying to call his father off. Or egg him on.

Bilbo couldn’t be sure.

This went through the whole feast until Thorin at last stood and addressed the guests, he gave a regal bow to Thranduil (which was in measure mocking, but that couldn’t be helped. It was enough that he pretended to be polite), and sat down just as Thranduil stood.

“I will not dally with words,” he said. “And intend to speak plainly.”

“Ada,” Legolas hissed.

“What is Prince Kili’s intentions with my son?”

“You weren’t kidding about dallying,” Thorin muttered. Dis stood.

“Have you a problem with my son finding his One in yours?”

“Not at all, my lady,” Thranduil said. “Only that I am doubtful that either of them are completely certain of their…feelings.”

Bilbo set his cup down.

“I vouch for said feelings! They’ve been blatantly obvious since I was last in Mirkwood. They didn’t know it then, but they were obviously all over each other.”

The two in question blushed and Legolas tried to slide out of his seat and under the table while Kili turned away from Thorin’s glare with his face half inside his cup.

“Think of it this way: they’re in love, they’re both royalty, and Erebor and Mirkwood are already allies. All I see is a possibility to solidify Mirkwood’s relations with Erebor and vice versa,” Bilbo said. “That way, no one risks elopement and you get a stronger treaty and alliance out of the deal. Right?”

Dis nodded, smirking.

Bilbo hummed.

“To add, my lord Thranduil, you’ll be suffering the consequences of this union along with my beloved, Thorin. In retrospect, it’s a win-lose for both of you, but at least Kili and Legolas will be happy, so in that light it’s more a win-win-lose. And the loss is only in that you and Thorin will have to contend to each other more often than you’d like to. Hardly a thing to start a war over, right?”

Bilbo arched a brow and, if possible, Thranduil looked a mite guilty. If Thorin ever suspected Bilbo to have lectured Thranduil for attempting to go to war over the white gems he had long desired and been denied, Bilbo wasn’t likely to sate his curiosity any time soon.

Perhaps,” Thranduil said, filling his glass with more wine. “But say this is no mere fancy. If it is not, I would like to know where it is headed, other than marriage.”

“Naturally,” Bilbo said, nodding his head sagely. “Marriage is _hardly_ the end of the story, is it? I’m sure even Beren and Luthien had their off days here and there after the drama of their courtship ended. Couples fight. I’m sure every married man and woman would firmly agree.”

This is met with several affirmations.

“Still, that’s looking rather far ahead, don’t you think? It’s nigh mid-summer, yet, and they’ve only just agreed to a courtship, I bet. I can’t completely understand a father’s desire to protect his children, but is it really that hard to forget that every child becomes an adult? Kili and Legolas both are adults now, even if we all tend to forget that.”

“Hey!” Kili snapped.

Dis rubbed his shoulders. “My little wolf, you know it’s true. There are days I wonder when it was a good idea to get you out of diapers—”

“ _AMAD!!!_ ”

Fili and Thorin both covered their mouths in suspicious coughing fits.

“I know the feeling,” Thranduil sighed.

Legolas turned bright red and whimpered, sliding a little further off his chair and under the table.

“But rest assured they are quite matured,” Bilbo said. “So! I have only one thing to say: I’d let it take its course for now and let them marry or break each other’s hearts without risk or consequences other than the emotional ones. If they get together, wonderful! If not, well no harm done. Would that sound fair to you, Thranduil and Dis?”

“Not Thorin?” Thranduil asked, confused. Even Thorin looked incredulous at that.

“Thorin is not Kili’s father. King and uncle, yes, but I feel you’ll be dealing more with Lady Dis than the king when it comes to your children.”

“Aye, I can do that. I can be more reasonable than Thorin when I wish to be.”

“I strongly doubt that,” Thorin said around his glass. He yelped when Dis kicked him under the table.

Thranduil looked from Dis to Bilbo. “You are certain this would be the, ah, _wiser_ course of action?”

“If nothing else, we’ll be watching them trip each other up trying to court each other. Cultural clashes and all that, you know. It happened between me and Thorin, of course. Still does, I’m sure. Must be entertaining for those on the sidelines.”

“Aye,” Dis agreed. This time she squeaked with Thorin kicked her.

Bilbo shook his head. “If nothing else, you’ll see sibling squabbles left and right. So far I’ve found that very entertaining.”

Thranduil sighed. “Very well,” he said. “A courtship barred from political transgression.”

“That is the most we can ask for.”

“However, I would like there to be a chaperone when I and lady Dis are not present.”

“That’s fair,” Bilbo said.

“I can’t complain,” Dis agreed.

Kili and Legolas, from the indignant glares, disagreed with this proposal entirely.

“And I appoint Bilbo and Dori as chaperones. There is no Elf, Dwarf, Man, or Hobbit more honorable and respectable than those two.”

Thranduil nodded. “If that is all, I suppose we can get on with this…battle?”

“Feast,” Thorin corrected. Thranduil looked around.

“I suppose a feast it is. It’s a miracle you’ve not thrown food around yet.”

Kili groaned and banged his head against a table while Legolas glared petulantly at Thranduil.

Bilbo sat down and kissed Thorin’s cheek. “See: this is why _I_ should have complete control over the diplomatic stuff.”

“Aye,” Thorin agreed. “You can have it. Take it from me. May you be king in my place.”

“You can keep the crown.”

“Don’t care about the crown, but watching Kili die of embarrassment has merit.”

“Doesn’t it always? More wine?”

“Please.”

~Two Years Later~

> _Dear cousin Bilbo,_
> 
> _Congratulations on your nuptials. Sorry I couldn’t make it. I just got married just a few days apart from you myself to Primula Brandybuck. (You may laugh, you old coot.)_
> 
> _We were cleaning Bag End and came across your ring. We thought it funny that you lost it and Primula accidently swept it in the fire. I don’t think you knew that it was Sauron’s Ring. One the Ranger folk clarified that for us._
> 
> _Anyway, Prim and I are in Rivendell right now (quite the place. Lord Elrond is a nice fellow if ever there was one) trying to figure out what to do with it._
> 
> _All we know for sure right now is that it can’t be destroyed by any weapon and someone’s going to need to take a trip to Mordor._
> 
> _Primula thinks we should, but this is your mess and I think you should clean it up!_
> 
> _But beside that, all is well on our end of the world, Prim might be pregnant, and Lobelia is still trying to get Bag End (naturally)._
> 
> _Hope you are well and that Erebor prospers._
> 
> _Drogo_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is heavily hinting a lotr spin off...but if I do go with that, I think it'll be either Primula or Drogo who takes up the mantle "Ring Bearer"...likely Primula cuz why not? 
> 
> Thoughts?


End file.
